Do you know how mindbogging complicated it is to plan a move to the US? The applications for the right kind of visas, the coordination of school records, and the thing that will give me nightmares for years to come- the moving of stuff. It's the packing, the sorting, the getting things okay so that if Homeland Defense wants to exam our boxes, they can. I will wake up in cold sweats dreaming of people demanding forms in triplicate.
The man who raised me is no longer paying attention to me. It's better that way, I think. I'm seeing a local counselor who is assisting me in recovering from the shock of hearing that the man I thought was my father... wasn't.
I found my biological father on Facebook and sent him a friend request. He hasn't responded to the one coming from the real me as of yet, but he has to have seen my picture. I also sent him a fake friend's request from an account I use to play Mafia Wars. From there, I know that he's really funny, a good actor, and has remarried and has had three kids from his second marriage. He seems happy, which is all that matters.
So on to less depressing news. Robin now has tubes in his ears and everything sounds better. I hope it helps his hearing, but I know that it won't help the root cause of his autism.
I'm tired of the support groups that Dee insists I attend. They may help her, but it does me no good to see kids so far down the spectrum. I sit there and watch them stem, walk on tip toes, and repeat TV commercials ad nauseam. When somebody celebrates their kid keeping a job as a bus boy or a grocery bagger, I want to scream “My son will go to college some day!”. But I can't. I've seen what people with Robin's IQ can do and I'm so afraid that someday it will be me with pride in my voice announcing that Robin has a job as a grounds keeper or an animal attendant. I so hope that the intervention services will help him change matters.
Merrie is doing well, all things considered. We were concerned that she had the swine flu from school, but thankfully it was allergies. She's now getting shots one a week from her mom.
I'm worried about Dee and the swine flu as well. Pharmacists, even those with cracked hands, tend to get all sorts of bugs. With the new information about how antibodical soap doesn't really help, I am more concerned. She's working 10 hours a week at a pharmacy to keep her hands in the business and to help us meet our financial goals. (This is on top of the 40 hours a week she spends on her job as a pharmacist trainer). It's crunch time for her, so she's not going to send a letter.
I do have a cute story to share. Merrie found two very young kittens in the play area of the apartment community, and the kids attempted to hid it from Mom. They secured cheese and milk and ice cream to feed the cats. What they didn't know was that these foods caused diarrhea. The next morning, mom got a big surprise.
Long story made short- we now have Spike and “wee little puppet kitten” Angel living at our house. Of course, Angel would have to be a girl. Dee has gotten them fixed (they can do that at 8 weeks now!) and they have proudly claimed the kids.
Until next time,