Moving Right Along

Last I wrote about Kismet, we were still waiting to hear something, anything, about training for her needs. The following week, we heard back from the caseworker, who said that the current group home parents where Kismet was living would be leaving in October. Since Kismet doesn't do well with changes, the caseworker was thinking that instead of her having to adjust to new foster parents and then turning around and moving in with us and having to adjust again a short time later that maybe it was a good idea for Kismet to move in with us in October. Well, of course we were all over that idea! Two months earlier than we'd expected? Hell yeah!

We finally got to meet with Kismet's caseworker this past Monday, along with her foster father, her therapist, a woman who I think was supposed to be the head of the group homes and also a former foster mother to Kismet, and a court-appointed volunteer who spends time with kids. We talked a bit about some of the things Kismet is currently going through, how she's struggling with the idea of the current foster parents leaving (they are having a baby in October, which is why they are leaving), some of the things we might expect from her and how we might deal with some of the behavioral issues that might come up. Then we were told we were looking at a two-week training period and some "shadowing" at the group home. I'm not sure what the shadowing would entail but I guess it's just seeing how things work in the group home.

We were then told that since she would be moving in with us in October, which previously had been presented to us as an option but is now an actuality, we could meet her this week. This week! OMG! After all this waiting and waiting and thinking that we wouldn't get her until December and wouldn't even meet her for months, everything has been ramped up and we will get to meet her this week!

The caseworker then told Kismet the next day that she was going to be adopted. We had made a little light-hearted booklet for Kismet as a way of introducing the family so that she would know some things about us. She was given this booklet and was apparently so excited, she was giggling and squealing and had to go run around the yard to burn off some of that excitement. We were thrilled that she was so excited. Who would have guessed anyone could be that excited about living with us?

So we are on for meeting Kismet tomorrow night. I think the plans are to see her again some time in the next week. Then I will be leaving for Orlando for 5 days and when I get back, we will start our training.

This is so exciting, I almost feel like squealing and giggling myself!

Forest Green Turtleneck Society

I have often seen members of the Red Hat Society out and about and have been amused by their red hats and purple outfits. I love the absurdity of it: a group of women who are unconcerned about their looks, about how society may view the way they dress, and are just out enjoying themselves. I've always said that some day, when I'm old enough, I'm going to join the Red Hats.

As I was looking at their website one day, I saw that I might possibly be old enough. While most Red Hatters are over 50, there are some who are younger. And I went, "Uh... wow. I'm maybe old enough to join." And then I started to go through a crisis. Yes, I want to be able to join the Red Hats some day. But... I'm only 42! And that seems too young to join the Red Hats. I was thinking that I would be ready to join when I turned 50 but I could maybe join now. It would give me an opportunity to meet and make friends with other like-minded women and I have missed having friends to hang out with. On the other hand, I have in my mind this perception that Red Hatters were much older than me and the fact that they're not, well, that kinda freaks me out.

So I was looking online to see if I could find a local chapter but the Red Hats keep chapter information very quiet. As I was looking, I stumbled across a group called The Blue Thong Society. Um... okay? The Blue Thong Society is kind of the antithesis of Red Hat, trying to stay young and hip and trendy as they age. Their motto? "Fight Frump!" Well. I don't want to be frumpy but I see the Red Hat group as being silly in their frumpiness, not that they were throwing in the towel and succumbing to a life of elastic-waisted polyester supreme pants and sweatshirts with little kitties on them or going about in hair curlers and mumuus because they can't be bothered to dress better. I'm sure that the members of the Blue Thong Group are probably nicer than that but first impression? Not such a good one.

Lying in bed with Brad last night, I mentioned both groups to him and said, "I feel like I fall smack dab in the middle of the two groups. I'm not sure Blue Thong is right for me but I'm not quite ready for Red Hatters, either. What would be the middle between blue thongs and red hats? Is it yellow jumpers? Forest green turtlenecks? Orange stars? Pink hearts?"

I've been racking my brain for a long time, trying to figure out how to meet and make friends with others. Alas, I have no crafty sorts of abilities so hanging out with crafters is not an option and I'm not going to join a book club because I'm very fussy about the books I read. Where does a 42-year old woman go these days to make friends?

If you have any ideas, let me know. Otherwise, I think I'll be down the street at the local watering hole, eyeing other women and working on pick-up lines: "Hey little lady, wanna come back to my place and play Scrabble and look at pictures of my kids?"

Who Needs Paper Towel?

The boys are up this weekend and we were sitting around the dinner table this evening, cracking jokes and eating (home-grilled) hamburgers. (I rock!) I discovered that we had no paper towels in the house to wipe our hands off on. Home-grilled hamburgers with condiments can be a bit messy. Add to that the fact that we were also eating chips and the discovery of no paper towels was a rather unfortunate turn of events.

So I started wiping my hands together, as if that's somehow going to rid me of the mess on my hands. Then I reached out towards Brad and Frank, who were sitting on either side of me, and wiped my hands off on their shirts. (I also let out an unexpected belch that set the wine glasses to tinkling in their rack and the whole family falling out of their chairs with laughter but that's another story all together.) Then I stuck my sticky fingers under the table to let our dog Sunny lick them off but that didn't help much either.

Brad, being the totally chivalrous dude that he is, leans his shoulder towards me and says: Here, go ahead and wipe your hands off. That's what shirts are for.

Me: Give me your pant leg.

Brad gives me a look.

Me: Oh yeah, it's not your pant leg, it's your socks.

Me, to the kids: Brad will wipe his fingers off on his socks when he's wearing them if he doesn't have a napkin.

Me, to Brad: So what do you do when you're not wearing any socks? Do you wipe them off on your ankles? I guess that's why men have hairy legs, to wipe off their dirty fingers.

Dweezil: I don't even want to know.

Me: No, it's good because then he has this stuff in the hair on his legs and then the dogs go up and lick his legs and the circle of life begins all over again.

Moral of the story: Make sure to always have paper towel on hand in case of emergency so that your wife doesn't share your dirty little secrets with the kids and her 9 blog followers.


Addendum: Now that I think about it, I think we might actually have some napkins in one of the storage cabinets in the kitchen, making the wiping off of my hands on other people's shirts totally unnecessary. I'm sure we all learned a very valuable lesson from this.