Being a Foster Parent...

It's been a little over a week now since the two little boys came to stay with us and almost a week since their sister came too. Over these past several days a lot of changes have taken place. Changes in the kids, Brett, our home and ME.

The kids have certainly come out of their shells, so there's that. :-D

All three are incredibly smart and it's so rewarding to see how much they've learned and grown in such a short amount of time.

I can't go into much detail on here due to confidentialy restrictions, but I can tell you that everything we learned in our training has been extremely beneficial. There are so many things we take for granted; things that we expect kids of a certain age will know and know how to do, things that we consider basic, but children that have been in "situations"

For right now, I can tell you that we're seeing a lot of personality. A LOT! We have the beautiful, quiet, creative, future engineer who almost always follows directions every time they're given (I have experienced a couple of pre-teen eye-rolls though, I giggle on the inside); the comedian who also happens to be a great helper, extremely inquisitive and completely adorable; and the youngest- another comedian who, if allowed, would eat pizza and chocolate for every meal-- very affectionate, Spongebob-loving wild child.

Speaking of Spongebob-- I had never watched an episode until yesterday. I thought it was a kids show- WRONG! OMG, what an obnoxious little prick! Seriously. New rule in this house- NO SPONGEBOB! I haven't broken it to the kids yet, they'll figure it out eventually.

Rules, ah rules. It's so hard going from zero kids to THREE! You have to be quick on your feet! I have to be three steps ahead of three kids at all times- that makes like, nine steps.

I try to give an explaination for my rules. There have been a couple of times when it was "because I said so", but for the most part I give an explanation. I believe that's the responsibility of the parent. Even as adults we have rules but those rules aren't "because I said so". They are rules that are enforced to procect us. I believe that if a reason for a rule isn't given, the child will never understand the potential consequence and be have the ability to be pro-active in their decision making. Don't get me wrong, I believe in consequences and learning from them. (If you don't want to wear a coat outside, that's fine. When you get cold, you'll realize you need it.) But I'm not going to let a child play with a light socket and figure out that when you get shocked you die. Know what I mean? Additionally, it helps keep me in check. It's too easy for parents to become lazy and say "because I said so" just because they, themselves don't want to put forht any effort. If I don't have a good reason for not doing or allowing something (like I don't want to get off the couch) then that's not a good enough reason- for either of us.

So how is all of this affecting me? Well let me tell you. I couldn't be happier. Seriously. I know I'm honeymooning right now and will eventually need a break, but at this very moment there is no other place I'd rather be. As lame as it sounds, I finally feel complete. I have never felt so confident. All of the years I spent doing theater/films, even with accolades and standing ovations, they pale in comparison to how I feel now.

Not only have I found new confidence, but I'm becoming a better person. Before, my day consisted of rolling out of bed at 8:45, sitting at my computer till 5:30 or 6 with the occasional trip to the bathroom or kitchen. Cooking dinner, leaving the dishes to pile in the sink and plopping down in front of the TV-- on a typical weekday. Now it's non-stop! Remember that whole 9 steps ahead thing? Yeah, that takes A LOT of work! But I LOVE it! It's like a switch turned on inside my brain. My house is more organized than it's ever been. There's still work to be done on my desk and in my bedroom/bathroom, but all of the living spaces are completely functional. Everything has its place and "systems" have been implemented. I'm sure the logical explanation is that I'm being more active and more blood is pumping to my brain, but I prefer to think of it as magic. Whatever it is, it's making me feel like a better person and I like it.

I wish I could document every thought and feeling that I'm experiencing. But the best I can do is blog some highlights and hopefully, HOPEFULLY effectively express the unimaginable ammount of JOY I have.

I have a wonderful husband and three awesome kids.

Oh also, a lot of people have been wondering how long we'll have the kids. We should know within the next week if they're going to be here for a while. We HOPING the answer is yes. Since the ultimate goal is reunification with parents (or at least a family member) they may be going to stay with someone else, but we won't know for at least a few more days. If it's decided that they'll stay with us, they should be with us for a minimum of six months. I told the social worker, "six months, PLEASE give us at least six months, I KNOW we can make a huge difference in just six months". He seemed to think that was likely that they'll be with us for at least six months, but it's ultimately up to the courts since the, technically, the state has custody. So please keep your fingers crossed.

For now, they are OUR kids and will be treated and loved like they are going to be here forever. --More on that later.

Learning little lessons and making progress...

So the last blog I wrote was on Tuesday night. The evening of our first full day with two new boys. It is now Friday morning and we've had three full days of two boys and just added a third child to the mix last night...their sister.

We are officially the proud foster parent to three incredible children.

I really wanted to write a blog Wednesday night because so much happened since I wrote the one the night before- what a difference a day makes. All day I had been making mental notes of all the little things I wanted to remember. But by the time the kids were in bed, and Brett and I had a chance to unwind, I just couldn't find the energy to do it.

I tried again last night, but again, I was too tired. So I'm up early this morning-- I don't want to forget any more details of this amazing experience.

Wednesday morning, I got up early. Took a shower, got dressed and made coffee. (a lesson I learned in a book that I read last year- shower first!) When the boys woke up, they came downstairs all by themselves. I didn't have to go upstairs and give them permission, they knew it was okay to do it themselves. --progress! We had breakfast and then they played.

A couple hours later, while I was cleaning up the kitchen, the little one asked me, "what are you making?" I said, "nothing, I was just cleaning up, why? did you want something?"

Big grin, "mmmhmm"

"What would you like?"

"Peanut butter and jelly."

"Okay, come in here and we'll make it together."

Big grin, "okay"

It was another huge step in the right direction.

***

This whole foster parenting thing is definitely a learning process. I'm finding that I hadn't thought about things like: where are they going to put their dirty clothes? Hell, where are they going to put their clean clothes?! (mental note, we need to buy hangers and a dresser) What are our rules about where grape juice is consumed? Where do we now put three extra pairs of shoes- the living the room? Family room? Should I get a shoe cubby? Again, WHERE do we put the shoes? AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!

There are also other things I hadn't thought about. Like the first time we went somewhere in the car...

On Wednesday, I took the boys to Monkey Joe's. I told them about it in the morning. They didn't know what it was, so I tried to explain, "it's a big huge indoor playground where you can run and play and climb and slide! It's going to be so much fun!" They looked at me like I was crazy- I kind of took for granted that they knew what a playground was, but I'm not sure that actually do (did).

Okay, so- I told them about it all morning. And when it was time to actually go, I said, "put your shoes and socks on it's time to go!" in a very excited voice. They put their shoes and socks on, I gathered my things and we went to the garage. This was the first time we'd left the house since they had come to stay with us.

Not thinking twice, Brett and I buckled them in, I said to goodbye to Brett, got in the car and began to drive away. Instantly the mood changed. The boys had gone from rambunctious to somber. I asked them if they were excited to go to Monkey Joe's and they softly said, "yeah" with zero excitement. It was more like they were just saying it because they "had" to, in order to be agreeable.

I tried to lighten the mood a little bit with chit chat, when it dawned on me. They last TWO times they were in a car they were being taken away from the home where they were staying. My heart sunk. I tried to explain to them that we were just going to play and when we were done we'd be going straight back home. I tried to convince them that everything was going to be okay, but I quickly realized, their trust was something I was going to have to earn.

When we walked in to Monkey Joe's the boys were a little overwhelmed. They have been homeschooled all their lives and from what I know, they have never socialized with other children. So this was probably terrifying. I reminded myself that I had to be confident and assertive so that they will feel safe and secure. (I think I pulled it off well)

I paid for the admission, we got our wrist bands and we entered the chaos. When the boys feel uncomfortable, they cover their heads with their shirts- the little one will actually close his eyes. They did this when they first got to our house and have done it a few times since. I guided them through the (much larger than I realized) warehouse full of bouncy structures and told them that they could go play! "Go! Go! You'll have fun!" There were kids everywhere!

When we got to the big slide they expressed some interest. I pointed to the other kids who were climbing the rope ladder to the top and told them to give it a try. They hesitantly took on the challenge, looking over their should to be sure I was still there the whole way up. After they got to the top and then back down, via the slid, they were sold. They did it again, and again. After the third time I pointed to the other things they could play on and encouraged them to GO, PLAY. I went and sat at the table where I told them I'd be and they were off. I was a proud mama.

***

Before we left that day, I had put chicken and rice in the crock-pot so dinner would be done when we got home. I had never put rice in the crock-pot before, but I thought, surely, it would by just fine. WRONG! When I scooped it out of the pot and onto the plate I started laughing. It was a MESS! A disgusting, gluey mess! GROSS!

We all took a bite, Brett said it didn't taste like anything, and it really didn't, even though I had seasoned it with SnP, poultry seasoning, garlic and onion powder...The boys started eating it. I asked them if they liked it, they didn't say much. The decision was quickly made to go to McDonald's. The boys were VERY excited about their chicken nuggets and the toy in their happy meal.

After we got home and ate dinner the boys took their baths and put on their jammies. Then we hunkered down on the couch with pillows and blankets (much like we had tried the night before with Shrek II) and Brett read the first chapter of The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe. The little one fell asleep on my lap (BEST FEELING IN THE WORLD) and the older one asked questions about the story. We were happy, happy parents.

First night as Foster Parents

We finished our paperwork with our foster care agency around the first of December, knowing that the state would have 50 days to return our license. Since we were out of town for the holidays, we assumed other people would be too. This led us to believe that we could expect our license around the end of January.

We returned home on Saturday, Jan 8th. Exhausted from the previous three and a half weeks we dumped all of our luggage in the living room and flung ourselves on the couches in the family room. Over the next 36 hours, we slept through about 25. With the impending snow, I decided 10pm on Sunday night was a good time to make a trip to the grocery store for some cheap "food" to get us through the next days- as we would most likely be snowed in. (even though it was only supposed to be a few inches- everything shuts down in this town when it snows)

So I went to the store and bought ramen, ice cream, cereal, milk, bread and tuna. See, "food". Remember we'd been gone for 3+ weeks, so there was NO food in the house.

Anyway, at about noon today I emailed our social worker to see if they'd heard anything back from the state yet. The reply was something along the lines of, "I haven't received it yet, but call me when you, I have two boys that need emergency placement."

I showed the email to Brett and we just sort of looked at each other like, "uhhhh". Mostly we were thinking, "crap, our house is a huge mess, we have no food in our cupboards, the second bed isn't even put together yet!" -- let's call and get the details.

We call, phone's on speaker. The social worker gives us the information she has, which isn't much. I looked at Brett and whispered, "what do you think? Do you want to talk about it and call her back?" He said, "I don't know what there is to talk about". Less than two hours later they were here. Two boys, ages 7 and 9.

Due to confidentiality agreements we can't share details, but I can tell you that they are two good lookin' kids. The first half hour was rough. They both just kind of curled up in a ball on the couch in the front room. We gave them a while to just "be"- sad, angry, confused...all of the above and more.

After a little while I went in and asked if they wanted to play Wii. They lifted their heads and both said yes. So Brett got the Wii going, helped set up Miis and got them playing together. He and I just sat, quietly...in the same room. I gradually began cheering for them when they had a good swing on the golf course. They seemed to loosen up fairly quickly.

Because they didn't come with anything except pillows and blankets and the clothes on their backs, I emailed two friends from down the street who have boys the same age. Fortunately they were both eager to help and one had a backpack full of stuff within 30 minutes. Thank you Angie!

I told the boys that I was going to make dinner and gave them the choice between pb&j or grilled cheese to go with their Top Ramen. (not the meal I ever envisioned for a first night with kids) One chose the pb&j and the other chose grilled cheese.

I tried to be pro-active. Telling them the plan. Eat, shower/bathe, jammies, Wii. They listened, understood and agreed to the plan. All went well.

At 7:30, I told them 30 more minutes of Wii, then quiet time. I didn't really have a plan for quiet time but I knew that they had a really long day and figured they were probably exhausted. I thought maybe they'd like to read some books or something.

We went up stairs, with books, and they immediately crawled into bed. It was the worst part of the whole day. I didn't know what to do. How could I make sleeping in some strange people's house any easier? We'd role played this in class, but the role play included the "child" not wanting to go to bed. These little guys just laid down, quietly. I wanted to hug them but I didn't know what to do. All I could think about was how I couldn't imagine what they were thinking, what they were going through. I just told them, "it's okay to be scared and sad. it's okay to cry. but if there is anything we can do to help them, please tell us." They both said okay and then curled up in little balls with the covers over their heads in their beds.

Walking out of that room was so hard. I didn't want to leave them, but I know there's nothing I can do to make it better--right now. Even though I WANT to smother them with love, it's not time yet, hopefully soon. I just stood at the bottom of the stairs for a few minutes and listened. I could hear their voices but I couldn't make out what they were saying. I also heard some sobs and lots of sniffles. After about 15 minutes, I couldn't stand it any more. I went up there to make sure they were alright. They both said they were okay.

45 minutes later I went back up. The older boy was asleep but the younger one was still awake. I asked him if he wanted to come downstairs, he said no. I'm hoping he's fallen asleep by now.

One day down.

False Positive

On Tuesday, December 14th, my family welcomed a new addition to the family. The cutest, sweetest baby boy- Rocco James Vickers. I was lucky enough to be there for the entire process. From induction, to the C-section decision, waiting for the surgery to be over and then FINALLY meeting him for the first time. It was the closest I've ever been to a live birth. It was truly a magical experience.

The first time I held him I just sobbed. I was overcome with emotion. He was so beautiful, so perfect. I loved him instantly. I had heard that when a mother meets her baby for the first time there is an instant connection, I never knew it was the same for an Auntie. Love at first sight does exist.

As all of my emotions poured out over this little newborn baby, my mom and sister said things to me like, "why are you crying so much? maybe you're pregnant". I guess it seemed a logical explanation for why I was being so "emotional". I just laughed it off, knowing good and well that it wasn't even a remote possibility. After my they continued to make additional comments over the following two days, I finally explained to them that it was impossible. "I just finished my period five days ago!"

But their words stuck with me.

On Thursday, December 16th, Brett and I arrived in Phoenix. We were exhausted from spending the previous days at the hospital and only became more exhausted as the week(s) went on. Between the holidays, sleeping on air mattresses, dealing with the stress being produced by our stay with his family and the time change, we (I) was a mess.

All of these factors manifested themselves into what felt like an emotional roller-coaster with the addition of constipation which in turn became bloating and nausea. This on top of those lingering words from my mom and sister...

On the 30th, I got a call from one of my good friends. She had just tested positive. I was so happy for her (I still am. I'm NEVER resentful of ANYONE who gets pregnant- I know how happy it would make me and I want that same happiness for everyone, especially the people I love). But I couldn't help it, I hung up the phone and the tears came pouring out. It was a full-on melt down. Big heavy sobs.

My sweet husband, just rubbed my back, knowing there was nothing he could do to make it better. But this melt-down was intense. I couldn't stop. I just cried and cried..."why am I crying so much?" The words of my mom and sister, haunting me...the weeks of constipation, bloating and nausea floating around in my mind.

I thought I was going to start my period that Wednesday, it was Thursday. I was one day late. Maybe it was an immaculate conception. Did I mention that we hadn't even slept in the same bed since December 11th?

The next day was New Years. I knew I wanted to drink that night so Brett and I went to Walgreens Thursday night and bought a two pack of tests, just to be sure. I peed on the stick that morning and it was negative. Just like all the other dozens, if not hundreds of tests I had taken in the past. I wasn't surprised. Not to sound like a martyr, but I'm used to it AND you have to have sex to make a baby, so, you know, there's that.

Fast forward to Monday, still no period. I was now five days late. I called my doctor and asked if I should up my progesterone dosage and he said yes but I thought I'd test, just in case, before increasing to two capsules per day. Besides, I still had the second one left from the pack of two, might as well use it.

It was Monday afternoon, about 3pm. I knew it wasn't my "first urine" but whatever, I was bored...or something. I had just taken a nap (remember that whole tired thing?) and I figured, "why not?" So I went to the bathroom, peed on the stick, set it down, went about my business, glancing down every couple of seconds. After about 15 seconds I saw what appeared to be a VERY faint line. I'm not going to lie... I whispered loudly, "holy fuck!" Never had I ever seen anything other than NOTHING.

I took it to Brett and I said, "don't get excited, but I think I see a line". I knew it was faint. I knew he would have a hard time seeing it, hell I could BARELY see it. I mean BARELY. When he didn't see it, I decided I was probably imagining things. But I KNEW I had NEVER seen what I saw.

We just kind of laughed about it. I put it back in the wrapper, placed it in the trash and forgot about it...for a couple of hours anyway. But I couldn't stand it. I just had to look one more time, in different light, like maybe outside.

I reached into the trash, pulled the stick out of the wrapper and there it was, a pretty defined, yet light blue plus sign. I showed it to Brett, he said, "yep, I see it". We decided not to get excited. Even though I have told friends who have questioned their positive results, "there are not false positives", I still couldn't feel confident that is was happening to me. I knew the math, I was pretty sure I hadn't ovulated and I certainly knew that there hadn't been any baby dancing going on. The two major requirements for pregnancy.

BUT, there was a plus sign. There are no false positives...right?

Fortunately I didn't allow myself to get excited. Well, not too excited. After all I wasn't completely convinced. But of course my mind did wander a bit. I thought about how we were going to tell people-- this is something I've fantasized about for as long as I can remember. I wondered what we'd do about fostering. I let myself feel like maybe just maybe it WAS happening to me. And it felt good.

However, it's now Wednesday, two days later-- still no period, but TWO new negative tests.

I hate to sound like I'm throwing myself a pity party, but it DID feel good, even if only for a very short while. I hope I get to see a REAL plus sign some time soon, but until then I will remember those 12 hours when I thought, maybe, just maybe it was happening to me, too.

A Letter to A Prospective Foster Parent...

This is an email that I sent to someone asking me about fostering. She and her husband are considering becoming foster parents. I thought I'd share it with you.

Since we live in NC, I'm can only tell you about the process we went through here. However, I do have some friends who have gone through the process in AZ and have both adopted a few children over the years. I can hook you up with them if you'd like. I know they'll be happy to share any information with you.

As for our experience, which I'm guessing is pretty close to the AZ experience, has so far, been pretty easy. Long and sometimes tedious, but easy.

We are going through a private agency rather than Social Services. Our eventual goal is to adopt and we feel like an agency is a better fit for us to be sure we find the right fit for our family. From what I understand, Social Services is typically desperate to place children and may not be completely forthcoming with information. Also, because of that desperation, they have a tendency to not worry so much about a good fit for the child or your family because they are more concerned with finding a place for the child/children to stay. This may just be a NC thing. Like I said, I'm not familiar with how AZ does it.

Another plus to working with an agency is that because they are privately funded, they tend to have more resources available and offer more support.

For our situation, we went through 30 hours of training- 3 hours per week for ten weeks. We had an initial home visit with the social workers at about, the 8th week. They just came in, took a look around, checked out our bedrooms and told us how many kids we could be licensed for. After we were done with our training we had a fire inspection and another home visit to finalize paperwork. We started this process in June and we're still waiting for our license. It feels like it's taking FOREVER!

Our training was incredible. We went over so much information about children, parents, foster scenarios, issues that the children deal with, issues the parents deal with and the issues that we, as the foster home will deal with. The main goal was to teach us how to be loss and attachment experts since these are the two biggest concerns for all involved. The children losing their parents, their home, friends, school, etc.. The birth parents losing their children and us potentially losing the kids that we will mostly likely become attached to.

There was A LOT of paperwork, A LOT of homework and A LOT, I mean A LOT of self discovery. It was extremely emotionally draining. I struggled with several issues that I didn't even know I had due to my own childhood while working on my profile packet which asked LOTS of personal questions. In the end, it was extremely helpful, allowed me to come to terms with things I hadn't really acknowledged, and in the end, gave me an invaluable sense of peace.

For our home, we had to create a fire evacuation route, get the CORRECT fire extinguisher (that took a few tries) remove all of our extension cords ( we live in an old house with few outlets so we had to get creative) and basically childproof form the floor up. We don't have any kids of our own so our home was well, not childproof at all. :)

I have a correction to make. I just got off the phone with our social worker and it turns out that she did not get the email I thought I had sent her about the beds we bought, so she hadn't sent off our paperwork. She's actually doing it today. Looks like it might be closer to February now. Oh well!

Do you have any specific questions? I'd be happy to answer any questions that I can help with.

What are your goals? Long term foster? Respite? (weekend care, very temporary) short term? Adoption? Do you have kids of your own? Where are you in the process right now?

One thing that I have noticed is that this has really been an up and down experience. There has been lots of excitement followed by lots of doubt, but thankfully our family and friends have been so supportive. A good support system is vital if this is what you plan to do. People will think that you're amazing and doing "such a good thing" but it's important to maintain a serious sense of realism as it's easy to get caught up in what some will see as charity. I don't know how to explain it any other way-- but I know what I mean. ;-)

Please let me know what I can do to help! I can't wait to hear about your journey!

The latest in the reproductive saga

I know, I know, it's been a long time since I mentioned anything about my reproductive organs...I'm sorry. I'm sure it's been driving you crazy not knowing how my ovaries are doing. So here's an update.

First of all, the reason I haven't written about this stuff in a long time is because, well, it just hasn't been much of an issue. This is a good thing. Brett and I finished our foster parenting classes and are SO close to getting our license. Working on that has been a nice distraction from stressing about ovulation. We did our 30 hours of training, prepared our house with fire extinguishers and outlet covers, moved all of our cleaning supplies to our utility room, installed a new locking door knob on the utility room, installed blanks in our unused circuits on our circuit breaker, got all the animals their rabies vaccinations, bolted the big bookshelf to the wall and replaced all extension cords with surge protectors. It was quite a feat. We've passed all of our inspections with flying colors and now we're just waiting on our background checks to come through. THEN we can send off our paper work to get our license.

We also traveled a bit- went on a cruise, spent 10 days in Chicago and I, of course, went to Panama for business. So you see...we've kept ourselves very busy!

All in all, things have been really great. It's been nice not worrying about what was going on with my ovaries. What's even better, is that I'm still not worrying...well, mostly.

Back in August, when we went for our physicals, required by the state for fostering (I forgot to mention that check mark) I saw a different doctor than I usually see. (My normal doctor was ironically on maternity leave) So, anyway, the new doc asked why we were fostering and I told him that it was just something we'd (I'd, but Brett has been down with it since the first time I mentioned it) always wanted to do and that since we may not be able to have children, it is a good option for us that will hopefully lead to adoption. That started a conversation about my ovaries and which led to him recommending progesterone therapy.

Long story short, I started progesterone therapy in October and have had my first successful period. It was pretty fricken rad. It was light, only lasted four days and came all by itself- no nasty provera (the period inducing drug that requires me to stay home bound for several days).

While all of this progesterone talk was going on, I got an email from a friend of mine who works at the hospital in Charlotte. The email was regarding a study that's taking place where she works testing two fertility drugs on women with PCOS. At first I resisted. I sent her a reply that said something along the lines of: thank you for thinking of me, but we're not planning to start trying again any time soon. And that was that.

Well a few weeks went by and the more I thought about it, but more I began to change my mind. Brett and I had decided that we would start trying again after the first of the year anyway, and well, it just kinda made sense to give it a whirl.

I called the number listed in the email (which I had saved, just in case) and talked to the intake specialist. She asked me a series of questions and then said that someone would contact me with more information. That afternoon I got an email saying that it appeared that I was a good candidate and that in order to move forward in the process I need a clean pap smear and HSG. A pap I could handle, I was due for one anyway, but an HSG? What the crap is that? Thanks to Google, I quickly found out exactly what it is. I'll tell you in a bit.

So I immediately schedule my pap, which I had to schedule as an emergency pap, because I had just started the progesterone and didn't know if it was going to work or when my spontaneous bleeding by reoccur. Fortunately, the doctors office, after some negotiating, scheduled me for that week. While I was there, I told my GYN about the study and asked him if he would order an HSG, which by the way stands for hyterosalpingogram. (I just learned out to say it two days ago) He was happy to do it for me, and that was that.

This brings us to yesterday, the day of the HSG. Are you ready to know what it is? Okay, so...basically, it's a diagnostic procedure done by a Radiologist that entails, putting a catheter in your cervix, shooting dye into your uterus and fallopian tubes and then taking a series of X-rays. Fortunately the entire procedure only takes a few minutes, but that doesn't make it any less uncomfortable- it felt like an eternity. However, it was worth it. He was able to tell me right away that everything looks good. No obstructions. Fallopian tubes are wide open. Yay!

And that's that. Now if we can just get my ovaries to cooperate, and as long as Brett has good swimmers, we'll be in good shape! --That's next by the way. I got an email from the study coordinator this morning that said as soon as she gets my test results they will schedule the sperm analysis. He says he'll do it-- but that collection kit I told you about way back in March(?) is still sitting on his desk-- unopened. Hehe

So that's all for now. That's the latest. Won't know anything else for a while, until at least January at the earliest.

Oh and, just while I was writing this blog, an email came in from our social worker. Our background check came through and she's sending off our packet to the state! We will be licensed with in 50 days!!

Until then, we have our trip to Phoenix and a trip to San Fransisco (I have to go for work, but Brett is going to come along) to look forward to!

Life is good!

The Panama Experience

While sitting in the conference room where I had been keeping my computer I decided to start a journal of my Panamanian adventures.

I didn’t have internet connectivity because even though they enabled the network for me, they didn’t give me the password. And although I was able to connect on Tuesday, I was unable to connect Wednesday. So I sat there, in the conference room waiting, waiting for something to do. It’s what I did for the five workdays I was there. Wait.

Now don’t get me wrong. I’m certainly not complaining. I had a great time here in Panama. The clients that worked with are incredible people. They welcomed me with not just open arms, but with open hearts as well. They saw that all my wants and needs were met. They paid for my flight, and my hotel, even allowing me to stay two extra days so I could explore a bit on my own. I was told to order whatever I want at the four-star resort and charge it to the room. They picked me up and dropped me off, bought me lunch and worked hard to make accommodations for my American ways…even though I preferred otherwise. I truly had a wonderful time; I just wish I felt like I had “earned my keep”.

Three out of the five workdays I was there, I was picked up at about 11:30am- even though the scheduled time was 11am on Monday, 9:30 on Tuesday and 9:00 on Wednesday. In America, if you were two hours late for anything, especially if you didn’t call to tell the person you were running late, you’d be considered a failure, or at the very least, rude.
So when David (my ride) was running two hours behind, I felt like I was running two hours behind and therefore felt responsible for my tardiness-- even though no one cared.

I had heard that Latinos are typically more laid back than us uptight Americans, but I had never really experienced it first-hand. The thing is, it’s not the tardiness that is funny, it’s what comes after the tardiness—at least here in Panama, with these specific employees at this particular company with which I am working.
Like I said, I get picked up at about 11:00am, from there we drive. And drive and drive and drive. Until today I was pretty sure we had been driving in circles, after today, I am positive! I really paid attention this morning. Right turn, left turn, right turn, left turn, left turn, left turn, right turn. It’s like we’re making a really bad etch-a-sketch drawing with the city as our board. The best part is that going home is much different. Going home, we make about four turns. And it takes a quarter of the time to make the trip. Now you might be thinking that this is just because of traffic, but you’d be wrong. On Monday, I had forgotten something at the hotel but it wasn’t until we were about 20 minutes into our drive that I realized it. So I said to Aritza, she’s the one that was driving, “oh no! I forgot the power cords for the ticket printers”. So she said, “okay, I’ll take you back to the hotel.” We were there within five minutes. I asked her why it took 20 minutes to get where we were and only five to get back to the hotel and she just laughed.

Funny stuff, no?

So Monday, I got picked up at 11, get to the office about 12. Then I stand around, sit on the couch, stand around, sit on the couch for 30 minutes—while the boss, Marilyn stand in the middle of the office talking very excitedly on the phone, pacing back and forth with quick little steps while her high heeled shoes clicked on the tile floor in a room with absolutely no sound absorption what-so-ever. Click, click click. Click, click, click. “Muy para donde esta bien importante” I had NO idea what she was actually saying and it was all I could to not bust out laughing at what I was witnessing. It’s not that she was being funny, or like I wanted to make fun of her it was just the entire situation. There I was, sitting in a strange building in a strange country watching my new friend have a very passionate conversation about SOMETHING that sounded very dramatic which abruptly ended in “ciao”. Then she announced something about David and cumpleanos! A minute later Aritza, turned to me and said, “come, we’re going to the store”.

On our way to the store, which is in the same shopping plaza as the office, we ran into Jose. He was coming to tell them that his boss wanted to meet me. So he and I went on and Marilyn and Artiza went to the store.

Jose, is a Chinese-Panamain, who it turns out, speaks Spanish first, then Cantonese and then English. Cool, yeah? Anyway, he takes me up to the top floor of the high-rise next-door to the plaza where I meet, “the boss”. His immaculate office was decorated in a modern fashion and showed not one sign of any actual work being done. I found this even funnier than Marilyn’s click, click, clicking. In fact, I was having a hard time concentrating on my conversation with this guy because all I could think was, “what do you do all day?”
Fortunately, he also spoke English.

After this brief, like five minute encounter, Jose returned me to the ticket office where we quickly decorated David’s desk with the balloons and banners that Marilyn and Aritza had purchased from the, earlier mentioned, store. We finished just in time, because as soon as the last Hershey’s Kiss was strategically placed on his desk, he came sauntering in. We all (the three of us) sang Happy Birthday and giggled like three school girls then Artiza said, “Now you go to lunch with Marilyn”. I thought to myself, what? I’ve only been here 45 minutes! But, okay, I do what I’m told. Besides, I still wasn’t sure what I was in Panama for anyway.
Lunch was at Stizzoli, a small, modern Italian restaurant that offers brick oven pizza. The lunch was a sending-off for a co-worker that was leaving the company. The night before, when Marilyn, her husband Jorge and I were eating a VERY late dinner she asked me my nationality. I told her Italian, but that my family had been in America for several generations. I told her that I didn’t speak Italian and that I had never been to Italy, but she was so excited to introduce me to the owner of the restaurant, telling him that I was Italian. He of course asked me what part of Italy and expected me to speak the language. I just shook my head, laughed and explained. I teased Marilyn for falsifying my culture she just laughed. That led to much more laughter and my “being Italian” has since become an ongoing joke as she thinks it’s funny to introduce me that way.

Speaking of Marilyn, the first night I met her was Sunday when she and her husband picked me up from the airport. After going through immigration and customs I walked through a set of doors to a room full of people waiting to pick up arriving passengers. I scanned the dozens of people and quickly spotted a woman standing with a sign that said, my last name and under that, my company's name. I made eye contact with her, waved and began to approach her. She looked behind her thinking that I was waving at someone else. When she looked back I waved again, that’s when she realized that I was me. A big smile came across her face as she leapt towards me to give me a big welcoming hug. She called her husband over, who had been standing at the other entrance, introduced me to him as Jorge and then asked me if I spoke Spanish, to which I replied “muy piquito”. (I have no idea how to spell that or if it’s even proper Spanish)

“Ahhhhh! No Espanol?”

“Piquito, muy, muy piquito”

“Jorge speak English”

“Ok, good.” I felt a bit relieved.

The introduction continued as we walked from the air conditioned airport out into the thick, balmy, humid, words cannot describe, outdoors. We yammered on for the next 30 minutes in the car then at dinner in the hotel restaurant-- Jorge translating whenever necessary. Talk, talk, talk- much like the clicking of the heels. It was truly delightful. We were having a great time, learning about each other- mostly learning about me. I was asked several questions about my life and my trip and where I’d been and do I have children and what do I like to do for fun and…we just talked, talked, talked. The only difficult part of the conversation was when Jorge asked me what was going on with Arizona’s government. That was a tough conversation to have with the language barrier. Even with Jorge’s good English, I knew some of what I was saying was completely going over his head.

When I got back to my room I was beaming with joy after spending two hours with Jorge and…? Jorge and …? It was then that I realized I didn’t know who had picked me up! Through emails that I had exchanged over the previous months I knew that there was a Kari, a Marilyn and an Aritza, but I had no idea which one I had just met. She didn’t introduce herself, and we got so caught up in our conversation that I didn’t even think to ask. It wasn’t until the next morning when she and Aritza picked me up that I was able to find out who this mystery woman was!

So here’s a funny little, “you know you’re not in the US when…”story for you… When I arrived that the hotel to check in, the front desk attendant informed me that they had assigned me a cabana room that was pool-front but the electricity was going to be turned off at 2am that evening for a couple of hours. I was given the option to move to a standard room if I preferred. I’m pretty convinced that if this was the case at home, I would not have been given the option. I would have just been moved automatically. I, of course, opted to go without power for two hours for one night and enjoy the pool-view the rest of the week. At that point, I didn’t realize just how nice the “pool-view” would be—complete with a private patio conveniently located next to not only the pool, but both within eyeshot of the two restaurants located on the property. It turns out, I really couldn’t have asked for a better room so it was certainly worth sleeping through a power-outage that would take place that night.
Unfortunately, as it was, I wasn’t asleep when the outage took place. I had been Skyping with Brett, telling him about my adventures when all the lights went out. Seconds later my computer died (because the battery sucks) and we were disconnected without getting the chance to say goodbye. I felt my way around the room, using my cell phone as a flashlight and eventually made it to bed; exhausted after a long day of travel and excitement.

By the end of my first day “working” I had sat around, eaten a delicious margarita pizza drizzled with pesto, met dozens of new people who spoke little, if no English at all, and sat around some more.

That night, I returned my hotel around 8pm, ate dinner, a lovely buffet at the restaurant, drank a local beer called “Panama”, talked to Brett on Skype and went to bed, when suddenly my uterus decided to give way that resulted in my waking up in a puddle—it was the disastrous cruise all over again.

Or was it?

Just like the rest of my golden trip to Panama, by the time I was ready to go to work the bleeding had subsided. So although I had a stressful early morning, worrying that I wasn’t going to make it through the day, it turned out to be okay. But I packed two extra changes of clothes, just in case.

That day, I got picked up at 11:30 (it was supposed to be 9:30) and when I got to the office I decided to go up to the IT department to see how things were going. When I got there, the two IT guys I had been working with were trying to trouble-shoot an issue they were having with the system. After much convincing I finally got them to call our IT department to resolve the issue. This was how much of my actual working-time was spent there. The IT guys would talk about something, a lot, for a long time, in Spanish, while I sat there, grasping at familiar words, knowing that they were beating a dead horse, convinced that there was nothing they could do to fix it. When I would ask if there was something I could do to help, they would say “no” and continue their conversation…they are a very passionate people.

This would go on a few more times- me asking if I could help and them saying “no” until finally I would ask what they were talking about and they would tell me, and ta da! I was able to help!! It was borderline hilarious!

Everyone was very stressed out this day because we were meeting with the CEO of the Panamanian equivalent of Wal-Mart that afternoon. This chain of stores had been contracted with to act as remote outlets for ticket sales.

At about 1:30, I was told that I was going to lunch. I was taken to a Brazilian restaurant where I had delicious mystery food and sangria. We finished lunch at 3:30—our meeting was scheduled for 4:00, it was a ten minute car-ride away. We left at 4:08.

The meeting, it turned out, was just with the accounting person at the chain since the CEO had to go to another meeting, because we were late. She didn’t speak any English. They showed her some reports on the system and then they suddenly packed up the laptop and the projector and we left. I had no idea how it went…turns out, it went well. But the best part for me was the ride to and from the meeting. I got to sit in the back seat with Jose, the English-speaking, Chinese, Panamanian. He told me all about their government. About their socialized medicine, government mandated employee benefits and social security. Turns out, everyone insured. There are very few, and I mean VERY few, homeless people. Pregnant women cannot be fired from their jobs while they are pregnant, nor can they be fired for one year after they give birth. They are given three months of FULL PAID leave- one month before the due date and two months after. Employers have to pay their employees for 13 months of work. Everyone is paid on the 1st and the 15th of each month and the 13th month of pay is paid in three installments: 1/3 in April, 1/3 in August and 1/3 in December. This helps boost the economy every four months. Fascinating stuff I tell you, fascinating.

Jose also mentioned that he does not use public healthcare, and although he is taxed for it, he still uses private doctors and hospitals…

The live test, the reason I was there (even though I didn’t know it until two days after I had been there) was to start the next day. Everyone was very nervous about it. My client built a pretend concert event in the system so that the outlet stores could practice selling tickets. At 5:30 on Tuesday they were frantically trying to find 100 people to go to the stores located around the city and buy tickets for five dollars to a fake event.

Tuesday night, I returned to the hotel at about 9pm, ate dinner- a delicious steak with coconut rice and beans, talked to Brett and at midnight I went for a dip in the pool. I had to the whole place to myself. It was delightful.
After a long hot shower, I curled up in my comfy bed, in the chilly air conditioned room under the warm down comforter and slept like a baby.

Wednesday morning:

Up at 7:30, dressed and ready to go by 9:00 for my 9:30 pick up…David arrived at 11:00. This day I brought my camera. I started taking pictures as we pulled out of the hotel, just to document the route to the office. David decided to take the scenic route. We passed by the Pacific Ocean, went through a private gated community, stopped by his house to pick something up, drove through the ghetto (a neighborhood where even the police won’t go after dark) and finally arrived at the office at 1:00pm. When we got there, I was told to go over to Quiznos to have lunch with Aritza. So I did. I thought I had ordered a spicy chicken sandwich with pepper-jack cheese (based on the picture) but it turned out it was a chicken sandwich with honey mustard. Good thing I like honey mustard.

After lunch I sat around and waited until David said, “let’s go!”. I was told that I was going to one of the stores to buy some tickets. I asked if I should help the sales person if he or she had any trouble processing the order. I was told “no, this is just for practice.” When we got to the store, David went behind the counter, messed around with the computer, processed an order, printed a ticket and we left. I had done nothing and I was confused. When got out to the parking lot I asked David what had just happened, he tried to explain but I wasn’t sure I understood. It seemed like he was saying that they could not use the system because there was no icon on the desktop. I told him I could fix it, but he said no, so we left.

Turns out, there was a virus on the computer. I guess that makes sense.
That night, Aritza took me out for dinner and a show at a Panamanian restaurant. We ate yummy appetizers and I ordered chicken which came with a side of coconut rice sprinkled with black beans. She ordered the Yucca Pot Pie (at least that’s what I’m calling it) and it was out of this world! It was chicken and vegetables in a gravy covered with mashed Yucca and baked. Kind of like a shepherd’s pie. If you’ve never tried yucca, I highly recommend it. So good!

Got back to the hotel, called Brett and went to sleep. The next day was going to be a busy one, full of meetings about how the live test had gone the day before.
Thursday morning, I woke up, showered, got dressed, ate breakfast and wait for the phone in my room to ring telling me that David was there to pick me up. He was supposed to be there at 9. When he hadn’t arrived at 11, I wasn’t too worried, I assumed he was just running later than usual. I decided to just lie on the bed and wait. At 12:30, I woke up from an unexpected nap, looked and the clock and thought, hmmm…guess he’s running especially late, but I still wasn’t too worried. Come 2:00 I decided it was time to be a little concerned so I called Jose (because he speaks English) and told him that I hadn’t heard from anyone yet today and asked if he knew what was going on. He was very surprised and extremely apologetic. I told him there was nothing to apologize for, I just wanted to be sure everything and everyone was okay. He told me he’d find out and send me an email to let me know. At this point I was starving, so I went to lunch and when I came back to my room I had a message that said, “I’m so sorry we were not able to pick you up today. I will call you later if we can pick you up.” I took this to mean that they may still pick me up, so I sat in my room and waited.

At 6:00 I decided they probably weren’t coming and that it was safe to leave my room. So I did. I went for a walk around the block. A miserable walk around the block. It was so hot and the air was so thick it was all I could do to get back to my room. I hung around in the AC for a bit then went to the bar, had some sangria, ate an empanada, came back to my room, Skyped with Brett and went to bed.
Friday would be last day working with my client and I was sad. I had made new friends with people who really touched my heart. Their warmth and hospitality made me feel like I had known them forever. Even though we didn’t speak the same language, we managed to communicate. In this short period of time we had establish inside jokes, were able to tease each other about our inability to speak the other’s language and we managed to get stuff done- working as a team despite our vast differences. And although I didn’t feel like I had done much to help them, they were very pleased with what we were able to accomplish.

I was planning to be picked up at 9:30 because that’s what time I was told, which by this point I knew actually meant 11:00, but only seconds after my alarm went off at 7:30, my phone rang. It was Marilyn calling to tell me she was going to be there at 8:30. Crap! That was NOT enough time to get ready and eat breakfast!! So I rushed. I had just finished doing my hair when the phone rang. It was 8:40 and she was in the lobby waiting for me.

When we got to the office, we sat around and chatted for a while, I went next door to Subway and got a Veggie Delight for breakfast and then we headed to the main building for a meeting with the CEO.

Jorge was incredibly kind, well spoken, and surprisingly calm and level headed. We (they) discussed the live test and talked about ways to make their process better. I was able to offer some assistance and everyone seemed pleased with the results, knowing that it was not quite perfect yet, but with time, it would get better and easier. I was amazed. For some reason, I kept thinking that there would be some kind of drama, but there wasn’t. It was just easy. Everything had been easy.
After the meeting, the girls I had been working with so closely throughout the week, took me to see the Panama Canal. We got there just in time. A huge ship was actually moving through the Miraflores Lock, and I got to witness it! We dined in the classy restaurant located on the viewing deck and I got to see firsthand just how the Panama Canal worked. It was incredible. I felt very lucky.

When we returned to the office we had one last meeting to go over some reports that showed the data from the last two days and then I had to say goodbye. Hugs and kisses all around.

I was dropped off at the hotel at about 6pm. I ate pizza for dinner that night and enjoyed the amazing dessert buffet, called Brett, painted my nails, took a nice hot shower, watched some TV and went to bed-- ready for the next day’s adventure into the rainforest to spend the day with the Embera Indians.