Tavvi and Connor

There's a family, here in the greater PDX area, that I've known for a while now. It's a pretty crazy story with way more drama than anyone should ever have to deal with. The short version is that there's a young mother with a preschooler of her own, who jumped through every hoop necessary to become a foster parent for her three younger siblings. These foster kids have been through worse abuse than most of us could ever imagine.

This is Conner.


This is Tavvi.


Connor and Tavvi's older sister, Steph, has done amazing things. The kids have needed serious therapy. She made sure they got it. They are currently in a private, therapeutic school with friends and a real chance at stability. These are not things that the state (or anyone else) casually offered. Steph has gone to extreme effort and expense to provide the best care possible for these kids. What I consider even more important, they love each other. They are a functioning family, now.

I'm not a lawyer. I'm not sure how or why this is being done, but apparently the state of Virginia, where the biological parents who caused all this pain and trouble currently reside, are taking these kids to Virginia on Tuesday. Not to live with rehabilitated parents, mind you, but to be split up and placed in foster care with people they don't know so that IF the bio-parents decide they are willing to perform the necessary rehabilitation, the kids can be returned to them. But it's been over two years and as far as I know, these parents have made no move to participate in any rehabilitation efforts... so I have to say this sounds like a horrible failure of a system put in place to protect children.

If you look back to my birthday entry from last year, you'll see a bunch of people sitting around... those blue-haired ones... that's who I'm talking about. We're talking about a lot of time, growth, love, security and stability, all gone.

Of course, they can tell it better than I can, so check out:
Tavvi and Connor want to stay home
Mothering.Commune forum discussing this story
and
Shame on Virginia Blog I don't think I know the woman who's running this one, but Steph and Urban Princess (HRH UP is one of Steph's close friends and is also going to the mat on this) recommend it.

Check it out. If you have advice, suggestions or words of support you can leave them at Steph's site. If you'd rather just comment here, I'll pass them along. Thanks!

Reality Bites

When I think of strength, or of motherhood, or of desperation, or of the future, this is the image I can't get out of my mind. Dorothea Lange captured so much in this portrait; far beyond any other description.

This recession, this financial nosedive the talking heads like to cluck about on the news... This is what they're talking about.

A while back, I was watching Anderson Cooper on CNN, "reporting" on the criminals responsible for this financial crisis. After a series blasting various CEOs, the featured jerk was... You.

Yes, this highly paid newsman actually had the gall to report that the extreme greed and irresponsibility of the average person was at the heart of the matter. I find that disgusting.

What has the concept of "Middle Class" been, other than a trap?

I'm no economist, but it seems to me that it has been quite profitable to hook people into credit traps and essentially force them into indentured servitude. Before anyone gets out their fiscal conservativism combat manual, think about when most "middle class" people fall: college. With higher education essential for finding employment and therefore access to a middle class lifestyle, one must be able to pay for college. And anyone who's had to go through the financial aid gauntlet knows that it is assumed - expected - that the student and/or the student's parents will take out any loans necessary to bridge the gap between aid packages and income. So, many of them take out these loans that are exempt from bankruptcy relief because what other shot does a kid have to break out of the paycheck-to-paycheck life?

So the kid goes to college and in the welcome package given out at the bookstore are several credit card offers tailored to students. And heck, a kid's got to eat. And feel grown up. And pay that unexpected fee or buy that essential supply that ran out too early. Mom and Dad already had to take out a mortgage to send the kid to school, so there's not much more blood to be squeezed from that stone... So assuming the kid finishes with a bachelor's degree (heaven forbid a student doesn't finish the degree - like if they get blasted with a crippling illness, physical or mental), they're already loaded with so much "good debt" that they will probably be paying the rest of their lives. Plus the bad debt, where all money will go from that entry level job that doesn't pay nearly as much as expected... and which will probably build, bit by bit, as the now-worker must have a car and food and business attire... And with every promotion, or even every year that goes by, there's more pressure to appear successful... better cars, spouse, kids, "starter home" mortgage...

What happens when one of the parents can't work? Or one of the kids has cancer? How far are they from the streets? A month? A year? What happens when jobs start drying up and someone who followed advice and sunk deep into good debt, while responsibly contributing to the 401(k), finds that all their responsibility can not control very much - and if the expensively educated person can find a job, it's comparable in pay and benefits to the person who lives on the edge of poverty, even without a student loan and college degree?

They are forever stuck playing catch-up, while the bigwigs who got the whole credit fiasco started manage to just get richer. And richer. And richer.

It's the middle class lie.

The poorest and richest among us find the view about the same. And both can mock the hubris of the people who believe that whole "American Dream" thing.

Contrary to the Neocon BS that's been spread pretty thick the past several years, the people that need help now are not leeches. They are not, as a group, stupid or even any greedier than any other consumer in this culture. They are not shiftless or lazy or in any other manner inferior. And I consider highly suspect those whose judgement turns up anything less humane. People need help. Not them. Us. Because we are all in this together.

This is a website worth browsing: One Dollar Diet Project.

Some Jobs Just Aren't Worth It

My wonderful husband sent me the link to this:



(Warning: Does contain some profanity.)

Up for Air

I'm doing better. Cautiously optimistic.

It's gray out, sunless and cold, the air dripping splats of freezing rain. My window reveals a blurry view of brittle variations of green, from diseased blackberries to skeletal trees bristling with moss. Winter is here.

I don't have to be anywhere. I'd have already made my legendary pumpkin bread, but I'm out of eggs. Ah me, from all that I have seen and heard, the course of true love (baking) never did run smooth. (I'm sure Shakespeare was really thinking about baking. He was a smart cookie. heh)

Thanks to those who emailed, called and texted. I feel loved. And supported. And a little embarrassed. ;o)

So here's hoping that was an aberrant glitch and I can get back to my normal levels of neuroticism.

Rapid Cycling?

For the past few days the mood swings have been absolute hell. I go from OK to well above baseline to so ghastly depressed that I seriously start fantasizing about "falling" off bridges. Wash. Rinse. Repeat.

This is scarily similar to what was going on in Hawaii the last year or so I was there. It hurts like that and I don't know why.

Yesterday afternoon I sat on my couch, wishing I could wish myself out of existence, while my kids got increasingly grumpy and needy. I know how I'm supposed to feel and act. I forced myself to smile and cuddle and answer questions, all while the noise level in my head increased to an unbearable crescendo. Somewhere in there I managed to peel myself off the sofa and made sugar cookies with Bayba. They're her favorite. And I almost ruined the whole effort by snapping at her about putting the cookie cutters in her mouth. Poor kiddo was crushed. I apologized, but it's not like an apology really fixes anything. I think she still had fun. And I breathed through minute by minute, trying to just surface between waves without drowning. I made it through. Even made dinner.

And now I have another whole day ahead of me. I had one little jag of OK-ness in which I got laundry and dishes going. Then the wave crashed down and I'm under water again.

The shittiest thing about depression is looking ahead and seeing an endless parade of days... knowing you can't count on anything ever getting better. Sure, I know it can be better than what's going on right now. But I also know I have only minimal control over this. I've been doing all the right things - I think. I've been taking my meds, exercising regularly, meditation... and I was doing so well for so long. Now what?

Protest Much?

Wow. That title is about as far away from Shakespeare's line as one might get while still using any of the words. Oh well.

So there's been a kerfuffle of protest at the Capitol. More signs. Moving the atheist sign to a less obvious place. Rabid "Christians" protesting. Signs.

As for the signs and protests - hey, more power to 'em. They're wrong. But they can say whatever they want, no matter how idiotic. I'll forever defend their right to do so.

But if you want a little chill with your threat of dystopia, look up a news article or two covering this and read the comments. It's scary how many people in this country think the only good atheist is a dead atheist (and I'm not sure they really approve of those).

Heritage

I don't think I've mentioned, in my bloggy ramblings, how much I love the teacher G-Rex has, this year. Mr. G and I agree that we now have to live in this town until all our kids are at least done with middle school because the magnet program for the "gifted" kids is so freaking awesome. When G-Rex was offered this opportunity, we had no idea how huge it was going to be. Gifted programs have come a long way since our old Bloom folders and boredom days.

Anyway, the project that comprises all homework until Winter break, is a series of smaller projects designed around the concept of heritage. So one thing we've been working on at home, this week, is coming up with a recipe for Gwennie to make to share with her class during their Winter Break party.

After deciding we were going to go with her Polish ancestry (technically, she's got more Scottish in her, as a total percentage, but we have a lot better access to the Polish information and traditions), I began emailing back and forth with my mother about Polish dishes she remembers from childhood. So, today G-Rex and I made kolache. Right now it's still in the oven. It will be fun to eat it.

Because I am my mother's daughter, I had a lot of fun with Gwennie, working on measurements and discussing what purpose each ingredient serves and what the various actions/manipulations did to the ingredients. FUN! My Mom made every activity a science lesson. The kolache is fun, but the seeing the science in everything is the heritage I really hope to pass down.