Was That REALLY the Best They Could Do?!?

I was a little behind, but I finally watched the season opener of "The Bachelorette" a few days ago, and Oh. My. Gosh.  Was that really the best they could do?!?  I had it saved on the DVR, so I sat down to watch it and after they introduced Bachelor #3, I just had to rewind and start over...  This time with a notebook and pen in hand so I could take notes and blog about the prime choice of men they had chosen for poor, unsuspecting Ali.

Bachelor #1 (Frank) - The introductions opened with a man in a nice suit standing in front of a gorgeous high rise in downtown Chicago.  He was kind of cute in a geeky sort of way...  And then he spoke.  "I used to work here!"  ("Used to???"  What does that mean?)  He then goes on to announce, "I quit my job and moved back in with my parents to pursue my dream of becoming a screenwriter."  (Lovely)  He told Ali that he quit his job and moved to Paris.  (He was there for 5 weeks.  I don't consider that "moving" to Paris.  That's an extended vacation, honey.)  He has yet to tell her that he lives with his Mommy and Daddy.




Bachelor #2 - Poor Bachelor #2 was not attractive, but he was a lawyer. (I guess that's promising.)  He works at his Daddy's law firm.  (OMG!  Seriously?  You can't get a job on your own?!?  NEXT!)

Bachelor #3 - His opening scene was him trying to pick up two woman using cheesy pick-up lines at a bar.  (Seriously?  Correct me if I'm wrong, but are you or are you not going on a show in order to meet your future wife?  Do you really think that picking up strange women in a bar is going to win her affection?  Your light doesn't burn too brightly, does it?)  He then goes on to announce to the viewing audience that he "doesn't have any trouble with the ladies."

Bachelor #4 - The "Outdoorsman..."  He wants to take Ali on a romantic ice fishing date!  He then proceeds to show off his taxidermied collection of his "kill' over the years.  "I killed elk.  I killed deer.  I killed turkeys.  I killed a cougar."  (Wow.  Dead things.  Sexy.)  "And I'm not scared of any of those other guys...  Cause I killed me a bear!"  (Sweetie, unless you killed that bear with your bare hands in self defense, I am not impressed.  Standing 100 yards away and shooting an unsuspecting animal with a shotgun doesn't exactly do it for me.)

Bachelor #5 (Justin) - (Well, helloooo, Justin!  You're cute!)  He then body slams a guy and announces his "occupation."  He is an "entertainment wrestler" whose goes by the alias of "Rated R."  (Seriously.  I couldn't make this shit up if I tried.)



They go on to introduce a total of only nine out of the twenty-five bachelors.  A couple of them seemed promising, but for the most part I was worried.  Why did they only introduce nine of these guys?  Were these the pick of the litter?!?  Poor Ali quit her job and gave up her apartment for these guys!!!

As the evening started and Ali began greeting the men as they exited the limos, even more winners appeared.  You have the guy who exited through the sunroof and jumped off of the car...  You have the guy who exited the sunroof and did a back flip off of the car!  And then the cocktail party began and we get to meet even more of the eligible bachelors.

Goofy Weatherman - I know I should be rooting for this guy because he is from my home state.  Texas Pride and all that...  But after only two episodes, this poor guy has proven to be a total dweeb who Ali is most likely going to have to physically protect from this guy...

Psycho "Looking for a Fist Fight" Guy - That pretty much sums it up.  The men in the house have already had to separate this guy from others in the house.  He's a big bully who only picks on the little guys.

Ukulele Man - Yep...  This guy pulled out a ukulele (because, doesn't everyone bring a ukulele to a cocktail party?) and serenaded Ali with a little ditty that he wrote all by his very own self.  The poor guy couldn't carry a tune in a bucket, but parts of the song were funny.  The most ironic part of the ukulele episode was when "Back Flip Off the Limo" Guy admonished Ukulele Man for being "way too obvious" in his cry for Ali's affection.  (Yuh-huh...  Because back flipping off of a limo was in no way a desperate plea for attention.  No sir!  Not one bit!  Oy.)

"Ali Needs a Raincoat" Guy - He seems nice enough, but he talks 100 miles an hour and slurs his words so badly that he spits when he talks.  Poor Ali needs to wear water repellent gear just to carry on a conversation with this man!

But I think the real winner of the evening was "Shooter."  Within the first thirty seconds of his "alone time" with Ali, he proceeds to tell her the story of how he got his nickname.  What on earth would possess a man to go on national television and tell the woman that he is hoping to fall in love with and marry (along with the entire female population of the United States) that he got his nickname because he (to put it nicely) had no "staying power" when he was with a woman?!?  WTF?!?  Poor "Shooter..."  He didn't make it past Round One.  And now the poor guy is going to have to leave the country because if he ever dates again, it will be a miracle.

All hope for poor Ali seemed lost, but as the evening progressed, a few bachelors seemed promising.

Frank (Bachelor #1) - He was growing on me a little after last night's episode.  He seems like a nice enough guy.  I'm just not sure how much farther things will go with them when he finally does tell Ali that he lives with his parents.  At least he's not unemployed like I thought after the initial interview.  (Although I think saying that you are a "Manager at a Retail Store" might be a fancy way of saying "I work at Walmart."  :-)

Ty - He's a true Southern Boy who works in Medical Sales and lives in Tennessee.  He seems to have the "Southern Gentleman" thing going on and he can play guitar and sing.  That's always sexy.  He doesn't seem to be using the show to promote his singing career or anything like that one guy a couple seasons back.  He just seems like a genuinely nice guy.

Chris L. - I think he might be in my personal Top 2.  He taught high school Math for several years in New York City, but ended up moving back to Cape Cod to be near his mom and help take care of her when she got sick.  She ended up passing away, but he's stayed in his hometown to be close to his family.  He seems really solid and there for the right reasons.

But my absolutely #1 pick is...    Rrrrrrroberrrrrrto!  (You have to say it with the rolling "R's" or it just doesn't do this guy justice!  He is beyond yummy!!!  I want to get me one of those!)  The first time you see this guy, he is shirtless and doing pushups.  He's got super sexy tattoos and a body that just won't quit!  I was really afraid that he was just going to be a gorgeous piece of man candy, but he actually seems like a really cool guy.  Not all egotistical like a lot of gorgeous men are... He just has that completely down to earth, calm but fun personality, and seems genuinely sincere about wanting to get to know Ali and seeing where the whole process leads.

So, while I had some serious concerns for poor Ali's fate in the beginning, all hope is not lost.  There are a few good ones in the mix.  As long as my Rrrrrrrroberrrrrto stays, I'll be watching.  The others can just provide some comic relief along the way...

"Foster Friday" - Foster Parental Rights

Being a foster parent is hard.  And any foster parent who tells you differently is either a liar or they're not doing it right. 

I'm not saying that to scare off potential foster parents.  As difficult as it can be, those kids are absolutely worth every second that you will spend pulling out your quickly-graying hair.  Everything from trying to track down pediatricians who accept Medicaid and who will actually see your child within the required amount of time to trying to update the 20 adults involved in your child's case to the monthly reports and paperwork to trying to advocate for your children without pissing off those other 20 adults, etc...  It's not easy.  But for me, by far the most difficult part of being a foster parent is that you really aren't a "parent" at all in the eyes of the law.

For me, the kids who come into my house become "mine" from the moment the enter the door.  But as a foster parent, you are reminded nearly every day that you have absolutely no rights when it comes to these kids.  Normal things that parents take for granted take an act of Congress for foster parents.  Little Bobby desperately needs a haircut...  Sorry.  You need to get written permission from the biological parents.  Planning a fun vacation?  You'd better fill out an application to get permission from the bio parents and court first.  Chances are, you're foster kids won't be allowed to participate and will have to go to respite care while you are gone.  I've had foster parent friends who were ordered by bio parents not to allow their children to ride bikes, to only give their infant chocolate milk, never ever, EVER give them medications, etc.  You do learn what you can and can't get away with.  I try to do what's best for the child without getting caught.  ;-)

CPS can come to your house and take these children to appointments that they set up whenever they want.  They can insist that your services are not needed at the appointment, but to be there when they get back.  They can require you to take children for evaluations, therapies, give them certain medications, etc. or they can insist that you stop the same things, even if you are certain your children need them.

For me, the fact that I am nothing more than the hired help is never more clear than when my children are moved from my home.  In some cases, you've raised these children for a year or more...  With infants, you've been the only parent they've ever known...  But as a foster parent, you are expected to hand them over with a smile on your face, turn off the love, and never look back. 

With Angel, she was moving to another foster home, but we were promised that we could still have close contact.  After she was moved, CPS backed out and started enforcing a "no contact" rule.  The one time I really "broke the rules" was a weekend when she called me, hysterical, because of some things that were happening.  There was no way that I was going to ignore her or not voice my concerns to her caseworker about that weekend's events.  Apparently, I should have kept my mouth shut because that one incident of expressing my concern began a month-long attack on me and complete and total nightmare.  I should have known better.  I had no rights when I was her foster parent.  I definitely had no rights after she was moved.  Nevermind the fact that she's 17 years old and about to age out of the system!

The day I lost the Booger Bear was the most obvious when it came to learning just how few rights I had.  I went to court that day having been told that CPS was getting an extension and that the Booger was going to be with me for at least another three months.  I should have known that something was up when no one at the courthouse so much as looked in my direction.  I was told 60 seconds before our case was called that the Booger (who was already scheduled to spent the afternoon with his dad that day for a visit) just wouldn't be coming home.  I stood there listening during the hearing as they praised everyone else involved in the case, and never once got a nod, a "thank you," or a concerned glance from anyone acknowledging that I had just lost the little boy who I had parented for almost a year.  I learned at that moment that the last time I would ever see that sweet little boy was that morning when I had dropped him off at daycare.  I asked if we could do the transition the next day, and they said that the didn't see any reason to drag it out.  I wasn't even given the opportunity to say "goodbye."  I had absolutely no rights.

Over the past year and a half, I've been very lucky to have "met" several online friends who started their fostering journey around the same time that I did.  And one of those friends is going through perhaps the most difficult experience that a foster parent can go through right now...  The complete and total inability to legally protect the child that she has been raising as her own from harm...

If I knew that my child was in danger, I would move Heaven and earth to keep them safe.  Deny access, fight anyone who crossed me, hide them, whatever it took...  But as a foster parent, we don't have that option.  We can voice our concerns, we can call everyone involved in the case, but in the end, the only thing we can do to help the child is to be there to try to repair the damage and heal their hurt after the damage is done.  I learned the hard way that by voicing my concerns too adamantly, you are viewed as a hindrance, and the caseworker will fight you every step of the way.  I've been told in all of my training that the goal of foster care is reunification.  But at what cost?!?  How do we keep these kids safe when we have absolutely no parental rights?  The helplessness...  The complete lack of control...  It's the most difficult thing in the world.

I suppose when it comes down to it, as foster parents, all we can do is our best.  We can love the children who are placed with us with all of our hearts, and we can do the very best that we can for them while they are with us, despite the limitations placed on us by the system.  Being a foster parent is hard, and at times it can seem like it's too much to handle.  But when you get a spontaneous hug from a child afraid of touch, a smile from a child who has never had anything to smile about, and see the small accomplishments of your children as they begin to blossom in your care...  It's worth it.

I Don't Do Blue

We all have our odd little idiosyncrasies...  Those strange little quirks that we think make us endearing to others, but that really just make people look at us like we're completely off our rockers...  "What's yours, Mimi?" you might ask.  Well, I'll tell you! 

I don't eat blue food.

Now, this isn't something that I just blurt out of the blue.  I don't meet people and immediately announce, "I don't eat anything blue."  That would just be crazy.  It usually comes up during gatherings where cake with blue frosting is present.  I politely decline, and everyone looks at me like I've grown a third eyeball for turning down a perfectly good piece of cake.  I then have to quietly explain my theory on blue food, which inevitably leads to knowing smiles, little nods, and people asking, "Sweetie, have you taken your meds today?"

My theory?  "If we were supposed to eat blue food, God would have given us something blue in nature that is edible!"  (And blueberries don't count because, technically, they are supposed to be close to purple before they're ready to eat.)

Think about it!  Seriously!  Can you think of blue foods that occur naturally???  I can't!  So why create blue food just for the sake of making it blue?!?  It's just not right, I tell you!!!  It inevitably turns your mouth, tongue, and teeth strange colors and you can't go out in public for hours without looking like a fool!

As my freaky quirk became more well-known at work, my co-workers started getting really excited any time they saw me with M&Ms, Sweethearts, or other candy with blue in the mix. They would hang around my desk, eyeing the blue pile as I separated the candy, knowing that it was about to be up for grabs. They had a field day every time Halloween rolled around because they knew that blue candy would be plentiful at Mimi's desk.

I then realized that my aversion to eating anything blue might be a little more well-known than I thought about nine years ago when I was hanging out with my 2-year-old cousin.  He was snacking on his absolute favorite snack...  Little gummy fruit chew things ("buggies" as he called them), and I asked him if I could have one.  He looked thoughtful for a moment, and then he proceeded to hand me several of them with a huge smile on his face.  Unfortunately, it wasn't the smile of a 2-year-old proud of himself for selflessly sharing his favorite snack with his favorite cousin.  It was the "I'm so much smarter than you" evil smirk of a child who apparently knew that I didn't eat anything blue.  Because the handful of "buggies" that he held out to me was entirely comprised of only the blue ones.  Little snot!

In my "Something Old, Something New, Something Borrowed, Something Blue" quest, however, I decided to brave up and give something blue a try.  Hence, my experience with "The Blue Thing" margarita at The Movie Tavern. 

I think I was able to forget about it's "blueness" because it was dark in the theater, and the tequila helped me not really care if my entire face was blue by the time I was halfway finished with it.  :-)  It was actually pretty good!  And I was rather proud of myself for having consumed a beverage that clearly wasn't made the natural way.

So Does Anyone Have a Uterus I Could Borrow?

I got to hold and love on the sweetest little 3 1/2 month old baby boy the other day... And my nonexistent uterus started to go all whompy. :(  I've got baby fever BAD, y'all!

I mentioned the other day that I had some decisions to make as far as foster care and parenthood goes.  I've pretty much decided to hold off on fostering for now because I want to focus on saving money for either a private adoption or IVF.  If I end up getting a second job, I won't be able to dedicate the amount of time and attention that my foster kiddos deserve and that wouldn't be fair to them.  I'm certain I will start fostering again in 2-3 years.  It means too much to me not to, but I'm not getting any younger, and if I hope to adopt an infant or try IVF using a surrogate, I need to do it sooner rather than later.

Here is where I'm torn, and could really use some input...  I realize there's some pretty personal information in here, but I figure "why not?"  I might as well share and get some good, informed opinions.  I am 35 years old and single.  I had to have a hysterectomy when I was 30, but I still have one ovary.  I could have a biological child if I use a surrogate.  I know I'll end up adopting through foster care at some point, but I desperately want the experience of being a mother to a child from day one at least once.  I don't want to miss a single day of his or her life, so if I adopt, I'd want to do a domestic infant adoption verses international.  There are pros and cons to both adoption and surrogacy, so I am completely torn as to which route to go.

Adoption - Because I'm single, it could takes years to get matched.  Birth mothers tend to want a two parent family for their babies, so singles adopting can be waiting for years unless they already know someone who wants them to adopt their child.  I've even had some difficulty finding and agency that will work with singles wanting to adopt domestically verses internationally.  We all know that patience is not one of my virtues when it comes to waiting.  I could be waiting until I'm 40-years-old or longer, but I most likely would get a placement eventually.  There is always the chance that the birthmother could change her mind at the last minute though.  In which case, I would have to start all over and continue waiting.  Then again, I could also get an adoption credit on my taxes after the adoption is finalized, which would mean that I would get quite a bit of the total cost back.  It's just a matter of coming up with the $25K or so beforehand. 

Surrogacy - If I go the surrogacy route, the timing would be much faster.  If I financed it, I could conceiveably start trying by the end of the year (provided I could find someone willing to lend me her uterus by then :-).  Cost-wise, IVF and adoption would likely be about the same depending on how many cycles I try.  There is always the risk with IVF, however, that it wouldn't work at all.   In that case, I would have to start all over saving money for adoption.  On the other hand, there is also a pretty good chance of twins with IVF.  Could I handle twins on my own?  My sister did a great job with the twins when my brother-in-law was travelling and she was states away from any kind of help.  I would at least be close to family and friends and would have some back up if I needed it.  Then again, could I afford twins on my own?  Considering my medical history and the fact that I only have one ovary, I would have less to work with from the get go. (Although Christy's specialist always pointed out that it's "quality, not quantity" that matters.)  With surrogacy, even though I wouldn't have the whole personal experience with pregnancy, I could be involved from the very beginning.  I also wouldn't have to worry about whether or not the birthmother would change her mind because the child would biologically and legally be mine (although I'd have to double-check the laws in my state to be certain).

So...  Any thoughts?  I know that a lot of people who foster have been through it all.  Infertility, matched adoption, adoption through the state, international adoption...  Any advice or personal experience with any or all of the possibilities that you'd be willing to share would be greatly appreciated.  And if you happen to have a uterus that you'd be willing to let me borrow for a while, that would be grrrrreat!  :-)

Observations of the Gimpy One

When I was wheelchair-bound after screwing up my leg/ankle earlier this year, I really started paying more attention to the accommodations that businesses made for handicapped people and other small things that would have really helped me out during the first four months of the year.  I had already had some trouble at home (leading up to the whole "Naked Gimp SOS Call"), but after getting out and attempting to get around town, I had a few interesting observations.

Observation of the Gimpy One #1:

          After one of my many appointments with the ortho, my mom and I decided to stop for lunch at the Olive Garden.  Apparently, there is a room designated specifically for the old and gimpy, as we were led to a dining area with about 20 elderly people, all with walkers and varying mobile-assisting devices.  I realized that I was pretty bad off as I sat in my wheelchair, green with envy, as the little old ladies got up to leave with their super-cool walkers! 

          One lady had one with a seat, a basket for her purse, hand brakes, and even a cup holder!  I wanted one of those puppies so bad!!!  I was seriously tempted to ask her where she got it.  I didn't realize that I was staring longingly at it until my mom started laughing at me.  But seriously, at that point I had been wheelchair-bound for two months!  Those walkers would have been a huge step up for this Gimp Girl!  And it had a cup holder!  How freaking cool is that?!?  One lady even had a bedazzled cane!  Those old people were stylin'!!!

Observation of the Gimpy One #2:

         After I had graduated from the wheelchair into the fracture boot and crutches, I did my best to be indepenent and drive myself around town.  Katie and I decided to run over to one of the children's resale shops in the area that happened to be in a shopping center with several other businesses.  We pulled up and noticed that there were several reserved parking spots right in front of the store.  "Great!" I thought.  "I can park in there and won't have to hobble too far."

          Nope.  The reserved parking was for JENNY CRAIG customers!  Not handicapped parking or reserved for expectant mothers or mothers with small children...  The parking directly in front of the children's resale shop was reserved for fat ladies using Jenny Craig!  Call me crazy, but I think of all the people going to that particular shopping center, the Jenny Craig ladies need to be walking the thirty extra steps.  (I can say this because I am a fat lady who would ordinarily need to be walking those extra steps, but when you've got a broken leg and pulled ligaments in your ankle, you've got a pretty good excuse to want the good parking spot.) 

Final Observation of the Gimpy One:

          Just last week, the elevator at my office building was out of service for the entire week.  Thankfully, I can pretty much manage going up and down stairs now, although it takes a while to go down seeing as how I have to lead with my right foot on every step.  The situation had me thinking though...  What would have happened if I was still wheelchair bound?!?  Would they have set me up in an office downstairs?  Would they have given me the week off with pay because they couldn't accommodate me in all of my gimpyhood?  Would someone have to carry me up and down the stairs?  That would seriously suck for them!  What if the elevator had gone out after I was already upstairs?  Would I have to sleep here?!?  What if there was a fire?  Would I have to bump down the stairs on my rear end like we used to do as little kids???  (I say "little kids," but I seem to remember doing that in our first apartment in college too.  I'm surprised we didn't put a hole in the wall at the bottom of the stairs!)  It just amazed me at the amount of questions that an out of order elevator brought on.  I'd just never really thought about it before I was fully-dependent on the thing.

It's interesting the things you notice when you find yourself in an unfamiliar situation.  Before the fall, I never would have ogled old ladies' walkers or freaked out because the elevator was out of order.  Now though, I have an entirely new perspective on things.  From now on, I will stand united with future "gimpsters," fighting for their rights and helping them out as much as I possibly can.  While I might not be volunteering to piggyback them up and down the stairs in the event of an elevator malfunction, I will at least offer to find someone who will.  :-)