Monday, August 27, 2012
Alcide is up there. He is a werewolf on the show true blood. I wonder and stare at those muscles when he appears. Especially the muscles right above his jeans, where love handles usually are. I wonder what it would take for Mr. Hall to puff out like that. I wonder about Alcide's manly abilities. Beyond lifting heavy things and putting them down.
I wonder why this appeals to me, the Alcide muscles. I mean, I've never been much of a beefcake type of girl. So why does Alcide make me wonder and stare? I don't think Mr. Hall could puff out like he does. Alcide, well the guy who plays him, is probably 6 foot 4 and has been working out since junior high school. Mr. Hall is five foot ten and has a body style more of the Eric Northman type.
Northman is up there. He does not have the bulging muscles that make me wonder about his prowess. I don't need to wonder because I can already tell. No need to be all puffed out about it. It's subtle and strong. That is what Northman has-nuance. And better acting skills. And better story lines.
And the ability to wear the hell out of a pastel blue sweater. Most of last season no less.
Normally, I don't think these thoughts but being 8 months pregnant my brain isn't working in the usual way. It's a weird, wonkey world all up in my head and I'm becoming a lot simplier. I'm too tired to think deep thoughts. :)
So yeah, bring on the pretty men. They please me. Especially the Northman. :)
Wednesday, August 15, 2012
This is me yesterday. With my daughter Pancake. And a turtle. At a zoo. :)
SO. Becoming a foster family is providing some good blog fodder. It's hard though, I can't really write anything about anything but I want to provide some insider information about the process. That way I can share what I'm learning and encourage others who might be thinking about becoming a foster family.
Right now, we are doing what is called 'respite' care. Not full on foster care, but temporary care to give a break to foster parents. Basically, it's like babysitting at this point. We've had the same child twice now. Again, we'll call him Sam here.
Sam has a birth family and our job is to help support a reunification plan with that family. He's staying with us more and more lately which makes a thousand and one questions swirl around in my brain. Followed by a thousand emotions.
All these questions and emotions are largely self centered. I want to know why the birth family isn't following their plan to get better to get Sam back. I want to know what role the Dad has. I realize he's a guest of the jail system, but when does he get out? Can he take Sam to live with him?
The first questions, about the birth family getting better, are tough for me. I'm in mental health. I know about mental illness, addiction and general behaviors normally seen on the show COPS. Well, I know about them from a clinical point of view. But, being with this kid is opening up a bridge to the actual reality of it.
It's hard because I want to get in there, with the birth family, design a treatment plan and get on with it. However, that is not my job. They have social workers and counselors and treatment teams. There is a plan. Again, my job is to care for the kid a few weekends a month.
Then. There is the other family. The ones Sam lives with during the week. She is kin. She provides kinship/foster care for Sam. She has to deal with birth family not getting better too. Only it's her family. When we do the drop off/pick up for little Sam, I see the pain in her face and it just.frickin.kills me.
I don't have the protection of clinical detachment here. She is not my patient, but someone who loves Sam just like we do. I want to raise my hand and volunteer to be Sam's full time caregiver while the birth family gets their act together. That is what real foster care is.
Then, if I look deeper, I realize I want to adopt the little guy. But use an open adoption model so we can still keep in contact with his birth family. Then I realize I have to stop.
This isn't about me. It's about all this gifts my family has been given. I have a fantastic marriage, two awesome and loving kids. And a big, round belly full of number 3. God gave us these gifts so we can share them. This journey of becoming a foster family is not something I am in charge of. It's my job to let it all happen.
God has this all planned out anyway.
So. I'll let go and let God guide the way.
Thursday, August 2, 2012
I’ve been getting ancy lately with my fellow brothers and sisters at church. Not so much ancy but irritated.
Not so much with all of my brothers and sisters but those who post pictures of themselves gleefully eating at that chicken restaurant which I won't name because I'm not interested in getting traffic about it on my blog.
Which is not an entire surprise. My church people tends to run a little more fundamental and I'm from a smaller town and well, bud light is the beer of choice. And I don't really care about the particular issue that is driving them to that greasy chicken restaurant but it's that fact that that has become a hot button issue. A polarizing point where people gather round.
Much like the Runner recall debate a few months ago, this chicken thing is like a bell that calls people apart. And I didn't care about that particular political mess either. Except to say my Mom was part of it by wearing a sandwich sign and walking up and down downtown. AND SHE DIDN'T CALL ME TO LET ME KNOW THIS.
SO THERE IS NO PHOTO OF THAT. I scolded her about it. BECAUSE MY 70 year old MOM WAS WALKING UP AND DOWN DOWNTOWN WITH A SANDWICH BOARD ON. How awesome is that?
And it's not that I don't care about the underlying issues, it's that you can't have a reasonable debate about politics or religion. EVER. It gets all frothy mouthed and angry. And polarizing and ugly. I for one have had enough ugly to last me a lifetime.
The problem though, is the photos. Gleeful people standing in the chicken line.
That is what irritates me. People celebrating an anti-stance. In such an inane way. Why celebrate your beliefs at a place that is a machine for environmental destruction and animal abuse? Most likely they provide no health insurance for minimum wage employees. Corporations are ugly places. It's ugly framed at the ugly store. On facebook. By my Christian brothers and sisters.
We are called to love as GOD LOVED US.
These photos are not spreading love. They are spreading ugly and sad. I get sad when I look at them and make me question my choice in churches. I am a Christ follower. And I choose to love all these people, even in the ugly photos. I'll pray about this and let God lead me.
Because my fight is not with them, but with the spirits between us. My struggle is not with them, but with the enemy working inside them. And I will let God's love rule.
Ephesians 6:12 (NIV version)
For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.