Michigan Bills HB4006 and HB4015  

Wednesday, April 21, 2010

I don't even care that the bills have been adjusted yet again. What bothers me is that those of us who drove to Lansing, sat patiently, and were told that if we came back for the next hearing, we would get the opportunity to speak first.

After a very long day yesterday I come home to a message on my machine from my daughter that the next session we have been waiting to hear has been scheduled for us to speak, was scheduled for this morning. the news didn't go out until after 2 pm yesterday.

It seems there is an acceptable 18 hour window of notification that allows those who don't want to hear what we had to say an opportunity to schedule in the middle of the week at the last minute so no one can make accommodations to attend.

A post on MiOBC this afternoon stated that there were closed door dealings, that no one was privy to except those involved in the closed door meetings, until they walked into the session.

 I am so disgusted right now I want to wish adoption on everyone of those committee members. Let them lie awake at night wondering if their grand child is OK, being fed, sitting in a dirty diaper, being molested. I wish they could understand how hard you have to try to go to sleep, with all that running through your head, that just won't shut off.

I would have gone if I could have found anything that stated it wasn't re-scheduled this morning. but I could find nothing.

They don't want to hear from us. They aren't the least bit concerned what happens to all those millions of people throughout generations with no civil rights. It's not them, that's all that matters.

 There was one committee member who was an adoptee light (adopted by his step father). I wonder if he has ever had to get a copy of his OBC? I had intended to ask him at the next session. The one that I was supposed to get to speak at. The one that was scheduled for today, in the middle of the week, with no advanced notice, so no one could attend.

I can only hope that one day he is in that position and when he is denied, he thinks of all those he heard testimony from, and al those he didn't,  because we there to protect him and his right to his own paperwork.

I think I'll look him up on the web page and ask him.

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Utah, and Baby Emma  

Saturday, April 17, 2010

I am trying to get more involved in what's going on around the world in adoption. Mine and Rachael's life is less than thrilling, we are like the old married couple now. We call, chat, sigh and hang up. When there is news, or thoughts, I'll post about it, but our blog will gather much dust waiting for another break through in our reunion.


Here is a story I can get behind. Fathers rights trampled like in a stampede. Just look at the list of players. Hospital personnel, LDS, State of Utah, and a woman who now regrets the decision she made.  Probably because she can see by the pain in this mans face, knowing now that he wasn't kidding, he wants to be a father to his child.


After decades of brow beating men for abandoning their children, (which don't get me wrong a lot of them needed it) changing public opinion on fathers actually being parents, demanding that men "step up" (one of my favorite lines used on my teen son in his attempt to be a father) it would seem that there is really no point because anyone who wants to sidestep a fathers right need do nothing more than make a phone call for a plane ride to UTAH.

You would think the state was run by women. Machete wielding, castrating, women who want nothing more than to hit men where it hurts. And it's all covered by, or should i say covered up by the Mormon's of Latter Day Saints. But the sad part is its not true. Men are doing this to other men. Father's who go home at night after a hard days work to their families, do this to other men who would love nothing more than to be able to see, touch and smell their children. Men (and women) who are paying for their kids college education off what they make stealing from other men.

I sent a steaming letter to the state of Utah by way of the email address provided in the web site. I hope you can find a few moments to do the same. Utah is THE child trafficking capital in the United States. Thousands of children have disappeared in Utah. Illegally procured, hidden, snuck out, and sold. The really sad part is who's in on it, adoption agencies, hospitals, lawyers, and judges. 

I'm glad this story hit the media, I hope it gives a huge black eye to UTAH and its baby stealing practices. I fear there is no hope for those who went before baby Emma, but I can hope that through media attention not too many more go behind her.  I can hope.

If you are interested there is a "Tell Utah to stop stealing children from their fathers" group on facebook.

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Inernational Drama  

Friday, April 9, 2010

As many of you have read, there was a young man adopted from Russia to Tennessee that was recently 'returned' due to behavioral problems. Here's the link for any of you that have not seen the story.


Now 7 year old Artyom was in an orphanage in Russia, he was brought to a foreign land, with alien values, language and people surrounding him. The little that he did have in Russia may not have been much, but at least it was familar. I'm unclear of why he was in the orphanage, did his parents die? Was he relinquished? Removed? I don't know, but what I do know is this boy has gone through hell and back. Psychological problems? HELL YES! Imagine what issues he is going to have after this little event.
Let's break this down. TRY to put yourself in a 7 year old mind and think about what he has seen. Maybe he had a family, one that he remembers. And one day they are gone, for whatever reason-GONE. You are then taken to a place filled with other children. You probably hear stories of never finding a home, living there forever, who knows what he heard. But he claims he was beaten with a broomstick. Just a bit more salt in that wound please and thank you.
Now you are 'choosen' to be place in a home, you are going to have parents! Ones that don't speak your language, serve food you are unaccustomed to, have do things you don't understand. And you can't even ask what the hell is going on. Because they don't understand you.

Have you ever had a day that you just felt alone? Even if you are with a huge group of people, you just feel you are alone? Compound that by 10,000 and shove it onto a 7 year old. There is not enough tears in the world to express this solitude

Artyom claims his 'mother' was "bad" and that she "pulled his hair" AND, (your gonna love this one)"didn't love him". Yeah, that'll be an easy recovery from. Like he wasn't already feeling estranged, but now there is another family that doesn't love him. This won't be grounds for emotional stife later in life.
I am not a perfect parent. I yell too much, I don't spend enough time playing, I am way too busy for my own good. But I can tell you one thing, my kids know I love them. There is never a question of that.
I simply can not imagine putting my 7 year old on a plane alone for 2 hours to get to Florida, let alone to send him off accross the world. I don't even know how long of a flight that is, but it's not a quicky. Can you imagine the confusion this kid had? Did he have a clue what was going on? He was ditched again, I don't care what anyone says, THATS what he was thinking. Yet another instance of someone not wanting him. Pushing him off to something unknown.

Ok, this kid is not faultless. He was violent and threatening. He drew pictures of burning down the house with the famiy inside. He was a major jerk. But he's 7 and has no sense of what a family is, how to interact in one or even a remote sense of stability. I think I'd go postal on someone too. NO, I'm positive I would. But guess what? These are classic signs, not unheard of. When my husband and I got together I his son was a problem-still is. His mother gave up custody of all 3 of them. Willingly. It's different I know, but he was still left behind. And it affected him. I have stuck by him for 12 years. He's still a major pain in the butt, he's mouthy, known to be violent time to time, has threatened my life, exhibited severe social issues. Not an easy child by any means. But guess what? HE'S MY SON. Period, there may be lot's of times I don't like him, but I'll never leave him. I knew what I was getting into.

I'm going to try to wrap this up, I can feel myself beginning to quiver from all this. It's making me sick.

In the end, just because you take in a child, give him a home, feed him and buy him some new tennis shoes-does not mean he is your lap dog pouring out undying appreciation and gratefulness. He is not obligated to be anything more than what he is, a kid. He didn't ask to be there, he doesn't understand whats happening. What he does understand is that every adult he has had in his life has left him. ALONE. What do we do to the worst of the worst of our prisoners? We put them in soliatary. Alone so they are deprived of contact. This is the same thing, on an emotional level. And I have a hard time believing this child will ever truly be 'normal'. HOW COULD HE? What normalcy does he have to base off? NONE. They love you-they leave. These ones over here love you-they leave. Hmmmmm.....think its possible that society as a general whole has utterly damaged this child beyond repair? Sure they may make him look good and normal, but inside, what state is he going to be in?

I'm climbing off my soapbox now. In closing I'd like to clearly state my very own personal opinion, and I'm not caring if this makes me popular or not.
I hope they fry that family. Torry Hanson, 33 of Tennessee, I hope with every ounce of my being that you see prison time until you are old and grey. I hope your mother is right along side of you. I hope your uterus rots from lack of life and when you get to hell, I hope, no PRAY, that you are given the same treatment you gave to the 'child' you were supposed to love. And to Artyom, dear boy, I pray that you are able to see that the sins of the adults you have been so unfortunate to encounter, are not yours. I can only hope that you can see that. One day.

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Fox at My Door update  

Tuesday, April 6, 2010

I have seen the fox a few times since posting about him/her in February. I even watched the stray cat who has a whole in the side of his face run into my back room when spotting the fox out side. Poor thing was trying to get between my dryer and the wall. There is no doubt this stray cat has had dealings with this fox and the whole in the side of his face very well might have come from the fox.

My son came in this morning after starting his car, quietly saying, "come here, come here". I went to the window and there she was, but she looked a little smaller than what I remembered. maybe it was because she was across the empty lot between the houses. I didn't have my glasses on so visibility for me was sketchy. But I saw them moving around, her three pups. That's right the fox at my door, who has been eating her share of the cat food for the strays has three small babies. They're just big enough to come out of their den which is under the vacant house tewo doors down  and roll around playing. She left for just a few minutes and came back with a good sized rabbit for them to eat. Fresh meat on a warm Spring morning, then off to sleep for the day. I will be watching as sunset comes with my binoculars.

 Now i feel compelled to put out even more cat food and left overs. My husband is going to shoot me. LOL. I'm always feeding someone.

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Milk Duds  

Monday, April 5, 2010

About 30 years ago I opened a box of Milk Duds and found a tee shirt offer inside the box. I thought it was the most pecular thing. I wanted one. Can you imagine a woman wearing a bright yellow tee shirt that said MILK DUDS in huge brown letters across her chest? well I threw the box away thinking I'd catch the next box and send off for my tee shirt then. Needless to say, I never found another Milk Duds offer inside a box of Milk Duds. Maybe someone figured it out and quit printing the offer. I can't think of any guy who would wear a shirt like that so the offer was pretty much a waste.

Fast forward to one of my and Rach's conversations getting to know one another. I tell her this story about the Milk Duds tee shirt offer and she finds it as funny as I do. No real surprise there, and its so not my point.

This past Christmas, Rach ended up having a Milk Duds tee shirt made, too perfect. I'm a lot older and the shirt wouldn't be a lie at all. But she gave it to her sister instead. Which was hysterical, because her sister had a double masectomy, those puppies really are Milk Duds.

 I jokingly asked if she would wear it when she came for dinner.

So as not to disappoint, Rach's sister came through the door wearing the bright yellow tee shirt with the BIG BOLD BROWN LETTERS..... MILK DUDS across her chest. What a trooper she is. What a fun lady. Now I'm wondering if we can't start a trend with other breast cancer survivors. You would have to have a sense of humor to get through what that poor woman went through. I'm sure there are other women out there who would wear a shirt like that proudly. I say proudly because they are alive to wear it.

 Though not funny at the time, I think maybe that tee shirt was just the thing to bring about a smile when one was sorely needed, and although she probably won't wear it on a regular basis, it's great to know she could wear it proudly for even just one day. And yes we all laughed.  

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Sunday, April 4, 2010

As Lori said, our last visit was a hit. We had a great time and I look forward to the next time. It did have a different feel though. More-natural. Visiting family is always hectic, too many people, not enough hot water or toilets. You know the routine, but we never really seem to mind.
As we have more opportunity to see each other and the chances of this 'being the last time' is a thing of the past, we are truly growing into more of a family unit. We don't feel the overpowering urge to be close to each other constantly. It's not so surreal, now it's normal. Even when my sister came for dinner. It all flowed. How many people can say they can sit down to dinner with their biological family AND their adoptive one and no hostility, distrust or 'weird vibes'?? Not enough that's for sure.

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Latest Visit  

Friday, April 2, 2010

Although I ended up sick, my 6 month old grand son ended up with a stuffy runny nose, my one son only got to stay the weekend, and my daughter was so busy we barely had time for anything except running to the store, it was more like actual family than what we have experienced in the past.

Families do run to the store 20 times when getting together, there are always other things that need to be tended to, like work, parent teacher conferences, and play dates.

after 10 years our get togethers are finally starting to feel more like family. As opposed to a grand occasion that requires sitting next to one another so closely that we touch, checking each other out for similarities, not wanting to fall alseep because.... well just because.

It's a great feeling and I had a great time. Grand son was a hit, snot and all, and there was a lot of snot. My son got his first real taste of what being a full time parent was, sleepless nights, fussy baby, regular feedings, yeah it was great and he was great at it. He depended on him momma and sister a bit, but all in all he was a trooper.

His brother was a stitch on the way home. Baby was cranky, needed to be fed on the road, and had sneezed releasing those oh so not cute bubbles from his nose. Brother has realllllllly long hair, wind was blowing, and he was holding his nephew almost arms length away so as not to choke the kid when the wind swept his hair into baby's mouth, or so he says. You could see the cringe in his face when the thought of getting snot on his shirt and in his hair was mentioned. Too funny, but worth every memory.

I didn't cry this time when we had to leave. I didn't even feel that sad, I am getting used to being a family with my daughter. I don't know about her, I haven't asked. I did ask if she was going to be all right as we were leaving. She said yes, she would be good.  I hope she was.

Already thinking about next time.

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