Growth?

Last time, I was anxious, nervous, frenzied, sometimes hopeless, distracted, impatient, you get the idea; I let the worry and angst steal the hope and joy I should have felt as an expectant mother, though as a potential adoptive parent, you have no idea when (or if) you will ever truly realize that dream.  People look at you a little odd when you say you are expecting a baby, perhaps tomorrow or five years from next Tuesday, or never.  They don't understand, and I'm past the need to explain, because they still won't understand, until they've gone through it themselves.  I was in tears the night before we got 'the call' about our son, thinking it would never happen.  I was in tears again, at the hospital, right before we brought him home because obviously everything was going to fall through at the last minute.  It didn't and now I can only laugh at my former self and hope this time around I can approach the matter with a bit more sanity.  Of course, I have a huge advantage this time around, I do not have this unquenchable ache to become a mother (I am one) and I have survived this process once before and know it can be done.

More than that, I have learned a thing or two about faith and patience.  It is not whether all my hopes and dreams come true (exactly when I think they should) or that I am spared from grief and sorrow and great travail, rather it is being able to say, whatever happens, 'Thy will be done,' and being content therein.  Whatever happens, whether we are blessed with another child or not, I will wait in joy and hope, trusting that things will turn out as they should, rather than as I think they ought, for in the end, that is infinitely better than my flawed plans and aspirations.  So I will enjoy the days or the years of waiting that lie ahead, and try very hard not to physically hurt anyone for making insensitive, hurtful comments.  That is one of the trials of being an adoptive parent: people say the strangest things with the best of intentions.  But as I have grown so much since our last attempt, obviously this will no longer be an issue, I can just smile and nod and wonder what they were thinking…really!…?

Oven Fried Chicken

If you love fried chicken but hate deep frying, this may be the next best thing.  It works great on both chicken pieces or strips/nuggets.  It is certainly less of a mess the deep fat frying but I don't know if it saves all that many calories, but then if you are counting calories this is the last place you should come seeking recipes!

Mix together 3/4 cup buttermilk, 1 crushed bouillon cube, and desired seasonings (onion, garlic, celery salt, black pepper) and let sit 10 minutes.  Place chicken in a bowl (this recipe will coat 3-4 pounds of chicken pieces or 2-3 pounds of cut up chicken breast) and pour buttermilk mixture over chicken, mix to coat.  Let sit in the refrigerator for 30 minutes, stirring occasionally.

In a gallon plastic bag, combine 1 cup flour and 1/2 cup bread crumbs (I add parmesan cheese) and mix thoroughly.  Place chicken in bag 2-3 pieces at a time and shake to coat, place in a cake pan to bake.  Drizzle with 1/4 cup butter before baking.  Turn chicken halfway through cooking.  Coating should be crisp and brown and juices should run clear.  Add extra flour/bread crumbs to bag as needed.

Academia and the real world?

I was once a bright eyed and bushy tailed co-ed (that's a college student for you bairns); I served an eight year sentence, so I think I have a little insight into this matter.  My first year out in the 'real world' was rather a surprise, as it seemed everything I had learned was of little practical use.  One professor told me I would never actually touch a cow, but rather everything would be done on the computer, let me tell you I have since touched a lot of cows but have actually used computers very little in day to day practice.  Having reverted to a real life person since my transition, I often forget the disconnect between academia and reality.  I was reminded of this just the other day.  The main problem is that people who go on to teach at the university often have very little experience in the real world.  They go from college student to grad student to professor without ever having worked a day in their field outside the ivory tower, thus their only experience with 'real life' is read about in textbooks, scientific papers, and heard in lectures.

We are slogging through the adoption process once more, and our social worker is a bright eyed chipper little thing with a good head on her shoulders, at least it seemed so during our home study, but she is young, just out of school, and has never been married or had a family, which is in no way a bad thing, we all start out that way, but when dealing with this particular issue, it does make quite a difference in your perspective of things.  The initial interview went well and was far less gruesome than our original home study for our first adoption which was with a middle aged grandmother who knew a thing or two about life.  She returned to the office and then asked to do a phone interview a week later as she had some follow-up questions.  I wonder if she didn't go back and find her copy of 'Vital Questions to Ask Adoptive Families' or whatever handbook is used in such matters and discover she missed a few things some Ph.D in social work thinks are of the utmost importance.  The questions we answered on the phone made absolutely no sense at all!

She seemed rather surprised we had never taken parenting classes or had marital counseling, as if everyone who is married or a parent should be involving themselves in such activities.  Personally, I am not sure I know anyone who has actually taken a parenting class (not a 'we're expecting a baby' class) and I thought marital counseling was for those with problems in their marriage, yes we've had our share of bumps but every marriage does!  Then she basically asked how my husband could possibly be a good father since he has a job?  Which I thought was a really odd question, since in most families someone has to work!  I think she was trying to discern how he interacted with his son when he was home, but it was very poorly worded and now I can tease my poor husband indefinitely about the evils of a working father!  Then there was the inevitable 'what will you do when he has his adoption induced paranoia attack?'  Which I find fascinating, of all the things that can mess up a kid, being adopted as an infant into a home with loving parents does not make the top of my list.  Yes, it is an issue he will have to live with and address, but he has two parents, does not live in poverty, has both love and discipline, and should have a pretty 'normal' childhood whereas I know far too many biological children who don't know who their father is, that are neglected physically or emotionally, are abused, have parents who are more interested in their 'fun' than in their families, etc.  Of all the evils incumbent in childrearing, this one is rather minor in the grand scheme of things.  We managed to satisfy the academically required frivolities and got a rough draft of our home study to peruse.

I was quite astonished to discover my son is hard to parent and we are struggling with his 'strong will.'  He is very strong willed, but he is not hard to parent, if you know how to go about it.  What he needs is a choice, so he gets to decide whether he eats his dinner and gets dessert or he can refuse to eat dinner and forgo dessert entirely.  He might be hungry, but he got to make his choice which is what is important to him.  I think you hear the word 'strong willed' and immediately assume disobedient, stubborn, and intractable, whereas it is actually just a character trait that you must learn to deal with like any other.  He's a very attentive, intelligent, and obedient little boy but when he wants to argue about something, he won't give in so you give him the options and let him decide.  But some of this stuff you just need to figure out on your own, I had no clue until we actually became parents!  So we just smile and nod and try not to laugh until we are alone, and know that time and experience are the best teachers, not some guy with lots of letters after his name.

As ye sow and just desserts?

I am something of a tease and have a rather interesting sense of humor (often baffling to those who are not familiar with it) and it seems this propensity has been passed to the next generation though not genetically.  This would be a great case study for one of those nature vs. nurture debates.  I think I have the only coming three year old on the planet that will not tell you his name.  He knows his name, even knows the 'real' names of his parents (not just mommy and daddy), and will tell you all sorts of names, but never his own.  He won't tell you his name because he thinks it a great joke, so jokingly I asked if his name is 'Figgins' and he has since adopted the moniker as his own with great delight.  Which I suppose is a small triumph in that he no longer refers to himself as 'papa' which is his version of Grandpa but otherwise he is still simply 'me.'  I can't say I do not deserve it either!