tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-51204280300272259812024-02-18T23:48:12.940-06:00WohlgeWho's WohlgeWhat?The blog to get a first hand view of life with 12 children between the ages of 11 and 8 months. Adoption, Foster Care, creative discipline, humor and a little off-the wall fun.Mom2manyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08181660427710320711noreply@blogger.comBlogger20125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5120428030027225981.post-78154874267155759922012-04-29T03:07:00.001-05:002012-04-29T11:49:49.604-05:00Tightening the reins at our Home on the RangeWe've been hit hard with attorney fees and unexpected major home renovations in the past couple of years in order to accommodate our three littlest blessings. As a result, I have been learning to lean on God's provision in a whole new way. Looking for any avenue to cut expenses, a dear friend introduced me to MoneySavingMom.com and my quest to stretch a dollar became a little easier. I've even been able to convert a few friends and family members into couponers. Saving around 45% on groceries is such a great feeling, although I've never quite been able to do some of the "Crazy Things" I've heard about on the Extreme Couponing shows. I've never seen the program personally, as we did away with everything except Netflix, but I am intrigued. It seems some of them are also candidates for Hoarders, but NOTHING goes to waste here and I struggle to maintain an adequate "stockpile" because our family of 14 blows through grub with great gusto! Hmmm, maybe that's why we never have enough toilet paper either. lol. Oh, dear, I'm going to have to go to time-out for potty-talk...<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil1edPhAZMDuVbTKyfpt9sFqSaiawhR9yFWT0A11ZSAsNGUmoO_bv0OmguDo3_S3RXLzZfNpF0qkhgjpch8pxtVhniR4PJHvHVPJFfZacRKGArRoLE2IWjU0KGSV6p50KblaojPSBtiOs/s1600/IMG_1662.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil1edPhAZMDuVbTKyfpt9sFqSaiawhR9yFWT0A11ZSAsNGUmoO_bv0OmguDo3_S3RXLzZfNpF0qkhgjpch8pxtVhniR4PJHvHVPJFfZacRKGArRoLE2IWjU0KGSV6p50KblaojPSBtiOs/s320/IMG_1662.JPG" width="320" /></a>
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We are looking at ways to live a more sustainable lifestyle and dream of buying the 36 acres behind our house. The land has a few small ponds where the kids love to go fishing and we already have some fence built from when we leased it from the previous owner. Our horse and two goats would have find a new home if we can't find a way to turn our dream into a reality. I cannot articulate how badly I want to spare my children yet another painful loss. I am clinging to hope and being as pro-active as possible to make this happen for our family!!!<br />
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Ideally, we would raise our own organic veggies in a large garden, plant fruit trees, and have a small family farm of sorts. Our children would not only eat healthy organic food, they would gain a greater appreciation for its source. Also, getting in touch with nature and working with animals is Therapeutic which would help them continue to heal AND give them valuable life skills. We have even talked about participating in a local Farmer's Market. Just think of all the young Entrepreneurs in training...<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDPIHYs38Fc277ExD2z5fV5c8iyrFwvAXpOAqpEToIfoWumFShHwdJ5xM4j4bIStWqJ2BYN4EeZWhkY5G9EW7JRAeygn_V-8cVvLm1OEH6evgnxe1kK0zkxoeMZDxXnLPEUyHIAy4CYu0/s1600/IMG_6381.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDPIHYs38Fc277ExD2z5fV5c8iyrFwvAXpOAqpEToIfoWumFShHwdJ5xM4j4bIStWqJ2BYN4EeZWhkY5G9EW7JRAeygn_V-8cVvLm1OEH6evgnxe1kK0zkxoeMZDxXnLPEUyHIAy4CYu0/s320/IMG_6381.JPG" width="320" /></a>Hippotherapy in our own backyard...awww, a dream come true and truthfully, I could use it myself. I have chronic lower back pain from being hit by a drunk driver a few years ago. I was in the process of recovering from major back surgery when we were involved in the head-on collision. An officer at the scene said it was the worse, non-fatality accident he had ever seen. As completely grateful I am that we ALL survived, I honestly struggle with anger and depression at having to live with pain daily. Therapy using horses may be the answer to help me both physically and mentally. After all, I MUST be "crazy" to have all of these kids. ;-P lol.
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT4_no7z8ZsW4GPzeTXXpVmOoKWuAKw4OOBpN8LTF8Z5-KV_CJ4B_OUJVXVW3YJttuL7Afy6r5KB9_J_V1VnHuFSJKN0I6R3JNuPt2X4ql6zIGOsm2h108PfFxMus93DTDP7s9M5xD81s/s1600/IMG_1794.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT4_no7z8ZsW4GPzeTXXpVmOoKWuAKw4OOBpN8LTF8Z5-KV_CJ4B_OUJVXVW3YJttuL7Afy6r5KB9_J_V1VnHuFSJKN0I6R3JNuPt2X4ql6zIGOsm2h108PfFxMus93DTDP7s9M5xD81s/s320/IMG_1794.JPG" width="212" /></a></div>
I have recently stumbled across a fund-raising site, <a href="http://www.indiegogo.com/">www.indiegogo.com</a> Has anyone had any experience with them or sites like this? Or, do you have any other suggestions to help us reach this very lofty goal?Mom2manyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08181660427710320711noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5120428030027225981.post-89887008710375070692011-01-21T12:58:00.000-06:002011-01-21T12:58:51.290-06:00Let it Snow.....INSIDE!!!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiArc2-g1pdzuZoSdI7qxfx961EgZKi4vZ7fZ-kaSABbd9WiWPaKXNnLDz3GhK9lwPLfIZ-xaq9bLWoQjh8u0GO8dTMJD02n_5qFm_hCfJpU8SDW6mGm9Z03qRq_RpZg8W0CxPnXJoFwf0/s1600/IMG_4247.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" s5="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiArc2-g1pdzuZoSdI7qxfx961EgZKi4vZ7fZ-kaSABbd9WiWPaKXNnLDz3GhK9lwPLfIZ-xaq9bLWoQjh8u0GO8dTMJD02n_5qFm_hCfJpU8SDW6mGm9Z03qRq_RpZg8W0CxPnXJoFwf0/s320/IMG_4247.JPG" width="213" /></a></div>I'd have some great pics to share from last night, but instead my older kids were able to "be little" and play without the fear of being caught on film having fun with...gasp....their <strong>family</strong>. We sat together in a circle and ripped some newspapers as we shared things that made us angry or frustrated. The pile of shredded paper grew to a mountain right there in our living room. We could see it, feel it, and we were <strong>talking</strong> about things that all too often keep us from those most important to us. Then, in a mom moment I can actually be proud of, I pulled out the trash bag from Christmas that I had been saving for this very occasion. Gift wrap was saved so we could then reflect on the blessings in our lives. The mountain of worries was slowly covered with praise. Slowly, because it was more difficult to think of the good especially with all of our frustration symbolically right there in front of us. Hmmm, true to life...I'd say so. <br />
Any idea what comes next? We had a huge "snowball" fight with all of that shredded stuff while "ice skating" in outrageous fuzzy socks on the hardwood floors. It was so FUN. Music blaring, giggles, dancing, conga line, sneak attacks on Daddy, raking it all into a big pile and starting over....and over. Sounds loud and crazy fun, huh? Well, it was and then Jason and I slow danced, as our children showered us with "snow" and laughter as we kissed. Yep, all in all an awesome evening. Silly AND romantic.....Bliss.<br />
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Oh, yeah, Jason made fried chicken using whole wheat flour that was seriously the best I've ever eaten. Yummy....sigh. Ahhh, perfection.Mom2manyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08181660427710320711noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5120428030027225981.post-51927030298113620032010-12-03T15:11:00.000-06:002010-12-03T15:11:18.964-06:00This touches the very essence of my heart....<object height="390" width="640"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/UWHJ6-YhSYQ&rel=0&hl=en_US&feature=player_embedded&version=3"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/UWHJ6-YhSYQ&rel=0&hl=en_US&feature=player_embedded&version=3" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowScriptAccess="always" width="640" height="390"></embed></object>Mom2manyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08181660427710320711noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5120428030027225981.post-23358615494735720252010-10-06T12:45:00.000-05:002010-10-06T12:45:37.040-05:00Making Home a HavenAfter finding much inspiration at Women Living Well, I decided to take the plunge and participate in my first ever bloggy challenge. One of my deepest longings is for a peaceful home. Some who have been to my house and probably those who haven't but know I have 12 kids under the age of 12, may think peace for me is a far-off dream. I have hope. A little. Sometimes. There are moments when we are gathered around the table when peace reigns. Of course, it could just be everyone's mouth is too full to talk. Mom2manyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08181660427710320711noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5120428030027225981.post-68565676864738818312010-09-27T12:40:00.001-05:002010-09-27T12:41:16.041-05:00Famished for FallOk, so I have this weird theory that I have only shared with a few close friends.....until now. So many of us are hungry...all the time in the fall. I think we are biologically wired to fatten up before winter. Summer is over as is the desire to look good in a swimsuit....which never has worked out so well for me anyway. It's almost like we are trying to insulate ourselves with a nice layer of blubber before the first frost. That is my rationalization for eating homemade ice cream by the gallons. It is pretty sad that my husband shakes his head and laughs as he cranks up the freezer for my 13th "last" hurrah of the summer. Soon, pumpkin pie will be my weakness along with Carmel apples and warm sticky cinnamon rolls fresh from the oven. Fall desserts oh, how I love thee.....<br />
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almost as much as cold, creamy ice cream.Mom2manyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08181660427710320711noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5120428030027225981.post-60538615468403557502010-09-19T14:25:00.000-05:002010-09-19T14:25:20.907-05:00Again a moment with Sassy Pants..."Mom, I was downstairs and then my stomach was <strong>hesitating! </strong>Really, it did. I, like, don't even know what that means, but I think my whole body was just <strong>hesitating</strong>." I try to keep a straight face and decide this warrants a call to my dear sister, Aunt JoJo. Unfortunately, she was in the shower and Uncle Marc answered the phone. Insert girlish giggles, lots of them. You see, Uncle Marc married Aunt JoJo when her two children were 10 and 11 so he didn't "do" the baby thing. Sassy confounds the most experienced of mommies and teachers alike. This is awesome! We explain the situation to dear Uncle and he seriously doesn't quite know what to say. Then more giggles as he almost whispers, "Does she need to....ummmm....poop?" This from the man who has yet to pass gas in front of his wife, or anyone else for that matter.Mom2manyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08181660427710320711noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5120428030027225981.post-82257913299581053192010-09-16T08:48:00.003-05:002010-09-16T09:00:37.701-05:00News Flash Via Miss Sassy Pants<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFoYhYFh2Kt9r4mWmAblm4qv9GuNODGFa6-e3z-2RJwyCta9zALXfFu0lprYea5Irm-VhpkS62Fv6Au-_2pv-VUR4aAzcZAEtlS6wuy4T88o50eBZk3LaszoEv6PFvBPmbe-w7jged2To/s1600/IMG1019470_T.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="149" qx="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFoYhYFh2Kt9r4mWmAblm4qv9GuNODGFa6-e3z-2RJwyCta9zALXfFu0lprYea5Irm-VhpkS62Fv6Au-_2pv-VUR4aAzcZAEtlS6wuy4T88o50eBZk3LaszoEv6PFvBPmbe-w7jged2To/s200/IMG1019470_T.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>Oh, my darling little Brenna. She delights and frustrates me all the time....really ALL the time. She was dancing around on her fawn like legs enacting the famous scene from Bambi when she declared how very happy she would be when winter finally arrived. "I can't wait to wear my pajamas all day and never leave home" I gently explained that she couldn't wear pajamas to school......devastating news for her, right? She immediately pops off that she would not be attending school in the winter because she is allergic. Huh? No, she is not allergic to school, but to winter itself. She was quite certain this was indeed the truth because she "always gets sick in the winter, duh, mom." What? It is true. I guess I need to get her allergy information updated.....<br />
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So what creative excuses have your children given to get out of school?Mom2manyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08181660427710320711noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5120428030027225981.post-55571882684865833582010-08-25T18:47:00.000-05:002010-08-25T18:47:55.544-05:00Adoption Doula<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha6hYvUQDhPowaGt4O3RCiF6YSTP_-zODSD2AOm7DsT1lrug0s7pg0UGmNnxD1DWfLCiABugPpwGpusQIMNZ6MsTfs5N0G7EHDWQdTgmyQna9mmaOQ_3LaPilggtYqM1ONodj10ltGGtI/s1600/IMG_0103.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha6hYvUQDhPowaGt4O3RCiF6YSTP_-zODSD2AOm7DsT1lrug0s7pg0UGmNnxD1DWfLCiABugPpwGpusQIMNZ6MsTfs5N0G7EHDWQdTgmyQna9mmaOQ_3LaPilggtYqM1ONodj10ltGGtI/s320/IMG_0103.JPG" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Who can resist a "muppet" smile?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>For some time now, I have been interested in the work of doulas. Women supporting women through pregnancy, delivery, and postpartum. We need encouragement, understanding and empowerment during this crucial journey that transforms us into the awe-inspiring being called "Mother." By hiring a doula, mothers reap many rewards. Babies have better beginnings, mother's have less medical intervention, and rates of cesareans decrease. What, then, about the experience of adoption? By offering the support and encouragement of an experienced mother who has been through the red-tape, jumped through hoops, waded through mountains of paperwork, endured inspection, and waited, wanted, and waited, can we make the journey not only less lonely, but also more successful? I believe so. Full-heartedly. <br />
Far too often, busy social workers, overwhelmed by large caseloads are unavailable during times when adoptive moms are ready to give-up. For those who are in the active stage of labor and pain overshadows the imminent joy, how many would decide to walk away if it were possible? Many moms (and Dads) experiencing a "paper pregnancy" become discouraged, frustrated, and never experience the joy of adopting.<br />
Ultimately, my mom was right, but when isn't she? lol. I can't adopt ALL of the children in desperate need of a family. I can offer my heart's support to others. Mom2manyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08181660427710320711noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5120428030027225981.post-79988738342678915282010-08-04T22:24:00.000-05:002010-08-04T22:24:03.574-05:00Look Mom, I can seeToday, I took my oldest son and daughter to get their first set of contact lenses. What an adventure. We had the most patient optician, thankfully. She was so encouraging and positive even throughout their nervous chatter....which was NON-stop. It is such an odd thing really. Touching your eyes when up until now they have heard all of the "mom-isms" about not poking their eyes out. It was funny watching them race to see who could master this new feat the fastest. Aubrey can pop them in and Tristan plucks them out so I guess they have something to learn from each other. She is so independant while he just wanted me to do it for him. Opposite sides of the coin, much like their mommy and daddy. <br />
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Cute quote of the day, "I know you said it can't get stuck behind my eyeball, but what happens if it does?" Now, really, did you just roll your eyes.....I did. Mom2manyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08181660427710320711noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5120428030027225981.post-25396163511877684972010-07-21T13:28:00.000-05:002010-07-21T13:28:28.664-05:00What's in a Name<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaYCNy2sN_NMCRAbPFxn-ep7VKqhvzAKRFSoR2EpBMtkTY2SfKIiVNdTVgj6S_kpHLRgk6YUcsawtsnqa1cz1CnxsQUY3VGo6ruQCK2d6vgZ22KUsoB3sjzX5vDLNfIutnHe-q1LsPIPw/s1600/IMG_0153.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaYCNy2sN_NMCRAbPFxn-ep7VKqhvzAKRFSoR2EpBMtkTY2SfKIiVNdTVgj6S_kpHLRgk6YUcsawtsnqa1cz1CnxsQUY3VGo6ruQCK2d6vgZ22KUsoB3sjzX5vDLNfIutnHe-q1LsPIPw/s320/IMG_0153.JPG" /></a></div>The past few days, we have been watching a little boy, "C," while his mommy is out of town. He is a sweet little guy and the kids have loved having him over. "C" was "Baby A" before is adoption. No, his name didn't include the "Baby" part, but that's how Jason and I have referred to him for the past ummm, five or so years. Can I just say, "I love this kid." <br />
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Changing a child's name at adoption is an often occuring practice that is a bit controversial. It is an issue that my husband and I debated while waiting for our children to come home. Like many topics, I can see both sides and as soon as Jason agrees with me, I start to second guess my previous position and begin arguing for the other side. It drives the poor guy crazy and I have been told to "just make a decision and stick to it" more than once in our oh, so joyful marriage. So now for your entertainment, I will do the same here just for you.<br />
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Pros:<br />
1. Identity theft prevention. When adopting a child from foster care, the birth parents may not be supportive of the adoption or may not have safegaurded social security numbers and other identifying information very well. It is not unusual to find utilities listed under the child's name. <br />
2. Safety issues. There are times when a child harbors fear of their abuser and rightly so. If that person does not know their new name, then they cannot locate them as easily. This security blanket can be quite reassuring to a child and honestly, a mother. I did worry about being out shopping and having a stranger who knew my children "before" approaching or trying to abduct them.<br />
3. Claiming. Adoptive parents go through a process similar to bonding with a birth child yet unique to adoption. It is how we can answer "yes" to the question "do you love your adopted children as much as your birth children?" Claiming a child as "ours" not only legally through adoption, but also within our hearts. Claiming a child is not being dismissive of the family of origin, it is an additional relationship of equal importance.<br />
4. New start. For some children, having a fresh start gives them permission to release some of the negative behaviors and past trauma. A naming ceremony can be a powerful tool in helping children move forward with their lives. Older children can help choose their new names. This works best when given parental guidance...my son's name would have been "Danny Phantom" if we had not given him some suggestions. <br />
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Cons<br />
1. Loss. The inherent loss adoptees feel from separation from birth parents is profound. Names chosen by birth parents are often considered to be the only tangable tie children have left. Loss of identity is another concern. Some adoptees feel violated by the loss of their birth names.<br />
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2. Self-esteem. Children who are adopted may struggle with feelings of rejection. Changing their name may reinforce the idea that they are not acceptable as they are and that the adoptive parents want them to change them further. <br />
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3. Family Connections. Our children were named after birth family members and were proud of those connections. Most names have a story behind them. Children love hearing how their names were chosen and what they would have been called had they been born the opposite gender. <br />
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There are many considerations to take into account when it comes to keeping or changing a child's name. What worked for us has been as individual as our children. Some kept first or middle names, others just added a new first name. All of them have our last name....poor darlings. lolMom2manyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08181660427710320711noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5120428030027225981.post-23803926176609774652010-07-12T22:49:00.000-05:002010-07-12T22:49:30.039-05:00Vacation 2010One of my goals is to take a vacation with all of the kids every year. We are not independantly wealthy, so it takes some sacrafice and planning on my part to accomplish this. Vacations for us are a time to reconnect and get away from the daily tasks of laundry, dishes, and household chores. We may not travel to exotic lands, but we get to spend uninterupted time together and focus on each other. Right now, as I type from my hotel room with my oldest daughter by my side, I feel very grateful for my family. My husband, rescued me tonight, from my youngest son. Truly, he projectile vomitted on me and I sincerely wanted to puke and cry at the same time. Just so you know, I do not "do" vomit. I know, mom's descriptions typically include this in their job duties, but for me...not so much. Mind you its not as if I think I am above that sort of thing. I do plenty of dirty jobs, but puke literally makes me sick. So it defeats the purpose of trying to clean it up when I will just make a bigger mess. I digress...and I'm rambling, again. <br />
My vacation dreams are important to me because when I grew up we visited relatives or went camping occasionally. We never really took vacations other than the one time we went to Colorado to camp. I did get to see the mountains and go horseback riding which was very memorable....and my dad ran into a building with my grandparent's camper (minor damage). My kids have already experienced so much more than I ever did growing up. I just wish they realized how fortuante they really are. It is no small thing to take this many children out to dinner, let alone, out of state. The work involved in planning, packing, then unpacking and cleaning up is all worth it if they have fun and make some good memories along the way. I want them to have magical childhood memories. I'm trying to make it happen.Mom2manyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08181660427710320711noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5120428030027225981.post-4939948684175910632010-07-05T16:05:00.001-05:002010-07-05T16:29:53.392-05:00Let Freedom Ring...as well as my ears.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYPtQqGosozvnoVkYwJHSUOeUvrW3JtmJaCQTLIFROtaDiP-nqmezBmC5i_xinTv1VX9NS4dNTQNRHiyRXzcUSuyFxWtHIPy0HTrfQFXM1AnAJEVKKAq8mQcPva-J4UJFBObGM2P9lktg/s1600/IMG_1566.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" rw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYPtQqGosozvnoVkYwJHSUOeUvrW3JtmJaCQTLIFROtaDiP-nqmezBmC5i_xinTv1VX9NS4dNTQNRHiyRXzcUSuyFxWtHIPy0HTrfQFXM1AnAJEVKKAq8mQcPva-J4UJFBObGM2P9lktg/s320/IMG_1566.JPG" /></a></div>Why is it when we have guests at our house the volume increases exponentially? I mean, really? Must my beautiful children always swarm grandparents and prevent them from moving past the entryway? Then fireworks. I love them, I do. Only not so much when my children are trying to light them, or are dodging the rogue missile headed right for their precious little heads. None of them ended up at the ER <span class="goog-spellcheck-word">thro</span>ugh nothing short of a miracle. Today is a day of recovery and evidently, a day of rambling nonsense.Mom2manyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08181660427710320711noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5120428030027225981.post-76586992388360463432010-07-02T10:25:00.001-05:002010-07-02T12:33:35.644-05:00The Story of UsI didn't set out to be a mom to many, really, I didn't. After I had my first son and the epidural didn't work, I was pretty sure one kid, biologically, was quite enough, thank you very much. Oh, yes, and why exactly is it that when epidurals are discussed, the possibility of them failing isn't brought up until after you are pregnant or worse yet, in labor?<br />
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I wasn't ever planning on one child. You see, I already had three. Two beautiful little girls and now my son, Tristan. My daughters, were placed with me when I was pregnant with T and I worried that I would never love him as much as them. They held my heart so tightly in <span class="goog-spellcheck-word">thei</span>r precious little hands. <span class="goog-spellcheck-word">Destiney</span> and Heaven....when I first held them they felt like both. My destiny and heaven here on earth. I wanted to be a foster parent for such a long time and worked relentlessly to make that dream a reality. As much as one can long for something at the age of 23, this was it for me. No going out, no chasing boys. I was going to save the world, one child at a time. Then I met these two little girls and the world suddenly rotated around them. I was blessed beyond measure, I loved them more than I loved anyone even myself. Truly. Many don't know this part of our story. It is part of my heart, a broken, shattered piece. It travels with them wherever they go. For they are not with me. Tears, big ones and many, accompany that part of my tale. I keep those precious memories close, so close for they are a part of me. One that I am very selfish with, for I don't like to share anymore than I have already. My all.<br />
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When Tristan was a mere 9 months old, I took a pregnancy test and the second line appeared. I was certain that being on the <span class="goog-spellcheck-word">Depo</span> Shot must cause a false positive. After all, it was a hormone that fooled your body into thinking it already was pregnant, therefore, there was no possible way I could be pregnant, right? The pamphlet I read said 99.98% effective so once again, no possible way. I called the Dr. just to be sure my logic was sound, only to hear her say, "Congratulations, dear." What? <span class="goog-spellcheck-word">Ummm</span>, wait just one stinkin' minute. Do you really think I was bearing my behind for a SHOT just for fun? I am terrified of needles. The mere thought of them makes my palms sweaty. All she could do was chuckle. We have since changed physicians. Well, okay, it was because our health insurance changed, but it worked in nicely to my storyline. Don't you think?<br />
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When I had <span class="goog-spellcheck-word">AubreyAnna</span> it was as close to a pain-free birth as one could get. I was surrounded by those I loved and it didn't hurt. I laughed and then I cried when I saw the dark haired beauty they handed to me. <span class="goog-spellcheck-word">Awww</span>, she was so cute and she was the best baby EVER. Oh, yeah, I forgot to mention that Tristan had some major issues with colic, reflux, and a few episodes with seizures at 2 and 4 months old just to keep me on my toes. But, <span class="goog-spellcheck-word">AubreyAnna</span> made those Gerber commercials look bad. I know I'm not just being one of "those" moms because I can also freely admit that Tristan was beat with an ugly stick as a newborn....badly. His orange-<span class="goog-spellcheck-word">ish</span> hair and cone head did nothing to distract from those blotchy purplish, red splotches all over his poor little swollen face. So, see when I say Aubrey was beautiful, well, I am brutally honest...and I never thought newborns were at all cute.<br />
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So we finally had a beautiful daughter and by then, thank Heaven, a darling son. Perfect American family of four. Picture it, savor it, 'cause it certainly didn't last for long and honestly, I am glad. I would have missed so much had that been the end of our story. <br />
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Aubrey tricked me. Oh, yes, that baby did. I wanted another baby just like her. A sister. And another daughter I set out to have. This was our one and only planned pregnancy and it very much resembled the first. In. every. way. I was sick and had two little ones to chase after. It would be worth it, all of it for another daughter. Well, I got my little girl. After five tries, they called in the IV team to get me started. Then after five tries at getting the epidural in place it worked....sort of. When Brenna was born she screamed for an hour just to let everyone know she had arrived and believe me when she is in the room today, you'll know it. Darling little princess. Brenna is unique. Not in a bad way....most of the time. <br />
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Now why oh, why would we ever think of adding to our melee? We were done. No more babies, ever. In fact, this time I wasn't messing around with a shot or a pill. Oh, no. This time I took Jason to the Dr with me and had HIM snipped while I watched and asked the Dr if he needed to do it twice just to make sure. No more babies....EVER. That statement brings tears to my eyes. How sad that I truly felt that way. Ladies, when God has a plan for you, one that is bigger than any 99.99% believe me when I say, "It will happen." We may not always understand "how", "why" or in many cases, most importantly "when." <br />
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Now for the dreaded line....."To be continued"Mom2manyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08181660427710320711noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5120428030027225981.post-16315240638846149142010-07-01T09:59:00.001-05:002012-03-22T15:39:19.398-05:00Foster Care MadnessOk, I have to publically apologize to those hundreds of couples who sat through my classes and listened to me drone on about being part of "the team." I should have instead told all of you that you should prepare to be nothing more than a glorified, or villianized, babysitter to the children placed in your home by a system that is so broken it should be crushed. And then burned, yes, burned. The ashes should be scattered with no hope of ever meeting. The system must be re-built with fresh new material resembling nothing of the old. Seriously, it IS that messed up. And I am angry. (No, I am not talking about actually burning any buildings. The above is really a metaphor. And just in case someone actually happens to read this, who can help, I have some great ideas on the whole rebuilding side.)Mom2manyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08181660427710320711noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5120428030027225981.post-43406254826457055882010-06-23T23:41:00.002-05:002010-06-24T11:35:46.958-05:00Lord, Let me teach my children well.This morning we are preparing our home for a visit. No friends are coming over to play. Relatives aren't dining with us either. It feels much more like an inspection of sorts. Social workers are coming today for a meeting....in my home. I have friends who are social workers...best friends. I've worked with them when I've taught classes. We have laughed, went to lunch and even cried together. I know "they" are just people too. People with families and problems of their own. Unfortunately, they are people who make mistakes...sometimes. That coupled with the fact that they are the people with power is what has my palms sweating. A disagreement, a misunderstanding, different perspectives. That is what leads supervision to my home at my request. Try to be professional. State the facts. Don't take things personally. PRAY. The babies can't speak for themselves. These precious little ones that my heart has grown to love. They deserve to be protected, safe, always safe, please God, let them be safe.<br />
"Things always work out," friends try to console. But sometimes, they don't. I've cared for those that the "system" failed. The children whose brains were battered and will NEVER be the same. Those with innocence lost, forever. The beautiful little girl who is fed through a tube in her tiny tummy, all because her mommy's boyfriend wanted her to stop crying. Stop, yes, she stopped, when her little head hit the 2x4 stud in the wall.<br />
I know too much. I know the system fails...miserably. I know the social workers are only human...with the best of intentions, yet still they make mistakes. Sometimes costly, life altering mistakes. However. However, my God can take even the most miserable mistake and make miracles happen. Look at my beautiful babies.<br />
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Romans 8:28 And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.Mom2manyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08181660427710320711noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5120428030027225981.post-33757923518250283012010-06-15T21:41:00.011-05:002010-06-15T22:22:37.514-05:00Wow, WohlgeVille has changed...Gee, long time no post. I promise I do have a valid excuse, or two or three. Actually four would be more accurate because that is the number of children who have joined our family since my last post. And I thought I was doing something when I had eight kids, bahhhhaaahaaa. Eight I could parent in my sleep....which I don't get much of now. Not complaining, just stating. <br /><br />So, in a very condensed version, we completed two domestic or private adoptions and are now kinship fosterparents. There are times when I hear of others waiting to be matched with their children, some for a very long time, and I wonder. Maybe our story will bring hope to those enduring the agony of empty arms or those with more room in their homes and heart just waiting to be filled. My family is abundantly blessed. God is so good and He has been faithful in keeping His promises. The past few years have not been without trial and as I share more, you will see that we may very well be in the eye of the storm.Mom2manyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08181660427710320711noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5120428030027225981.post-60722563085401498212007-10-06T23:46:00.001-05:002010-06-16T10:29:47.256-05:00One year ago...One year ago, we met our sons for the first time. Trenton and Trey have become such a huge part of our lives. It is so difficult to remember life without them. Trenton had some huge adjustment issues we had to work through and looking back it is amazing how far he has come. Trenton was diagnosed as Oppositional Defiant, ADHD, LD and Attachment Disordered. I will never forget the first time we took him to Wal-mart and he tried to just walk off. After several warnings, I made him hold my hand. That did not go over well at all and he literally melted to the floor. It was as if every bone in his body suddenly disappeared and I had a jelly boy on my hands. So what exactly do you do when you have a 7 year-old boy lying on the ground in front of a very busy milk section of Wal-Mart? Well, Jason just took the other kids and walked off. He shot me a smirk on his way out of the very embarrassing situation. Lucky guy. So there I stood holding the limp hand of my boneless boy. There was no talking him down. We stood there for what felt like an eternity. The one thing he wanted, I could not, would not give. He wanted me to let go of his hand. I seriously think I have a hunch back for the eternity I spent bent over him holding his hand. To be honest, I don't really remember how I finally got him to stand up. I just remember not wanting to go shopping for a long, long time and believe me that is saying something!!!<br />
***Warning*** Some of the language following may be offensive to some readers. Children with attachment issues have often been exposed to inappropriate language. Trenton could swear like none other when he was angry. Now if someone says "stupid" he gasps and runs to tell me. One of my favorite memories was when he called me a "dumb a-s-s" and informed me that it spelled "ass." When I asked him if he could spell "dumb" he was the one dumbfounded. Once when he was so mad, he called me a "son of an a$$hole." After telling him that I had already heard all of the swear words and he couldn't shock me, he just had to prove me wrong. <br />
After homeschooling Trenton for the remainder of the year and practicing attachment parenting, he is back in mainstream school and is doing great. He is off all of the medications and is so much happier. We can and do go shopping without incident. Today when he was saying his prayers, he thanked God for his mom and dad. What more could I ask for?Mom2manyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08181660427710320711noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5120428030027225981.post-67702789995621972412007-10-06T23:24:00.000-05:002007-10-06T23:43:12.918-05:0015 Year Class ReunionI graduated from a very small school with a class of 15. We just had our 15 year class reunion last weekend. Looking back, I never imagined my life would take me on the journey to where I am now. I guess I had some pretty typical aspirations. Career, family, friends. Never did I think, gee, I will do foster care and experience more heartache than should be allowed then have 8 children who bring me more joy than I could have imagined. No, this isn't the life that I had pictured for myself, but it is the one I can't picture myself without. <br /><br />My best friend has two children and we decided to meet for pizza prior to going to the high school football game. Her husband was less than thrilled by the idea of eating in public with 10 children under the age of 8. I am quite proud to say that my children impressed him with their manners. He told Kelly that he guessed if you had that many children you would "have" to have some order. I really think that is one huge benefit of having a large family. You have enough children to "practice" discipining that eventually you find something that works, at least part of the time!!!<br /><br />The following evening we had some adult time without the children. My dad, poor soul, kept all of the kids overnight. This was a first for him and he actually lived to tell about it. My mom was out of town so he bravely stepped up and watched them for us. I am so grateful that he did because I had a great time with my friends. We got really silly and had so much fun!!! I forget sometimes that grown-ups can be just as crazy as the kids. We are planning a girl's weekend for this summer and I am going to try to get out more this year.<br /><br />To be honest, as I was looking at my classmates, I couldn't believe how OLD everyone looked. The hot guys weren't even luke warm any more. Most had less hair on their heads than I do on my legs on a busy week. I, of course, look just the same as the day I graduated only without the BIG, BIG hair, the high waisted jeans, and the attitude that I know everything!!!Mom2manyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08181660427710320711noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5120428030027225981.post-10826415829318348062007-08-25T10:18:00.000-05:002007-08-25T10:45:10.504-05:00Some Saturday morning....Some Saturday morning, I will actually sleep in. Everyone keeps telling me that as the kids get older, they will want to sleep in. WHEN??? Right now, I have 8 little alarm clocks that I can't seem to unplug. I haven't even been able to locate the elusive snooze button either. The closest one I have occasionally been able to find is when I use my elbow on my husband's rib cage. That may buy me a few extra minutes of sleep. He can whisper....go watch cartoons and magically they go. I can whisper the exact same words with even more force and yet nothing happens except the whine of "mom, I am HUNGRY, or But, mom, Brenna is being mean" just gets louder and louder until I am forced to drag myself out of bed. I am telling you if I could only bottle Dad's voice I would have it made!!! Self-made billionaire selling Man's Voice in a Can. I can think of a few other times that would come in handy too. Like when the car breaks down and the repairman starts in on needing something I can't even pronounce. <br /><br />Ok, back to morning bliss. I want to know how it is that my children jump out of bed and the very first thing on their minds is FOOD. I mean, gee they only ate 8 hours ago right before I tucked the little darlings in for bed. My head isn't even off the pillow and they want to eat. The morning daze hasn't even begun to lift for me and they want a seven course meal. Then on the mornings I selfishly negotiate a few more minutes of peaceful half-slumber, you moms know what I am talking about: you try to sleep, but have to keep an eye half open for flying objects and ears alert for the sounds of an impending World War caused by someone getting one more piece of cereal than someone else, I ALWAYS regret not just getting up. Why??? Well on those mornings when I say...."just fix some cereal" I will spend the better part of the day mopping up the milk flooded floor, picking up cereal crumbs from some very unusual spots, and then shopping for more cereal so they can do it again sometime when I am too sleep deprived to remember the consequences. <br /><br />Yes, I love my children. I really love my husband when he lets me sleep in on Saturday mornings and prevents the milk flood by making breakfast. Which by the way, ladies, he does often. Just not this morning.Mom2manyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08181660427710320711noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5120428030027225981.post-22027391257650611982007-08-24T22:19:00.000-05:002008-12-09T11:46:34.104-06:00Just Who are the WohlgeWho's<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6YhNmppBT7Wq-LT8Lm2jHMqHF1mwy4tJqiTxE0YsrNTAy0N3lWi7AsQHEDq9NesWR4j1NjPnsib1hlStoBAxEE6SRAa31P0vlaiYbJ3Uo0Zie0GnpnlubCX7dyPyLCZWLO7g62WliZ90/s1600-h/0095.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5102480882234266418" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6YhNmppBT7Wq-LT8Lm2jHMqHF1mwy4tJqiTxE0YsrNTAy0N3lWi7AsQHEDq9NesWR4j1NjPnsib1hlStoBAxEE6SRAa31P0vlaiYbJ3Uo0Zie0GnpnlubCX7dyPyLCZWLO7g62WliZ90/s320/0095.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Our family consists of eight children who just happen to be ages 8 to 4. Hmmmm. Just how did that happen? Invitrofertilization? Twins? Multiple, multiple births? Maybe a blended family....sort of. The question we get all of the time, "Are they all yours?" YES. Each and everyone of them are OURS. Jason and I have only been married to each other, although our children have three possibly four different fathers. No, I did not have sperm donors, well other than my husband, although he did much more than make a deposit. He has stuck around and actually parents the kiddos. We have adopted five children from foster care and have three children that were born to us. Unbelievably to some, I want more!!!</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Our children are Tristan, 8; Trenton, 8; AubreyAnna, 7; Elizabeth, 7; Trey, 7; Kinzie, 5, Brenna, 5; and Evan, 4. Our home is full of laughter, our walls and furniture are more often than not decorated with crayon, and yes, our hands are full, but so are our hearts. Is it easy, is it a lifestyle for everyone, not exactly. It is my life, they are my loves. Family, Forever.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>In addition to my full time gig as a Mega-Mom, I also teach PS-MAPP classes to prospective foster and adoptive parents. Ours are all considered to be special needs adoptions. I agree that the children are most definately special and I know I have needs. I need a full time maid, laundry that does itself, an extra hand or two, a limosine driver, an unlimited bank account, a reality check. Advocating for children in foster care and adoptive families is a passion. Ask a professional mom. </div>Mom2manyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08181660427710320711noreply@blogger.com1