Interlude #4

Conversation I had with FS#1 this week.

FS#1: I have a bump on my back

Me: A pimple?

FS#1: No! A bump!

Me: Did you fall?

FS#1: No, it's a bump, kinda like a pimple but bigger!

Me: [thinking for a bit] When was the last time you showered?

FS#2: Night before I started going back to track practice (issues with shin splints)

Me: You mean Sunday? (it is now wed)

FS#2: No! the night before I went back to track practice. Didn't I go back on Friday...what day did I start back up?

Me: [thinking if it was Friday, that is even worse] No you started back on Monday.

FS#2: oh

Me: The reason I asked is sometimes your pores can get clogged with dirt and cause bumps.

FS#2: oh

At this point he got up and went and took a shower. I am so proud of myself. I managed to have this entire conversation without saying eeewh, gross, without making faces and not telling him what to do, well directly anyway!

Lying

I have been reading many a blog where the parents are having problems with their foster kids lying. I want to state right here and now that MY KIDS DON'T LIE! Nope, not ever, never, cross their hearts and hope to die, stick a needle in their eye.

Now before y'all start thinking I must be the most naive foster parent on the face of the earth. let me clarify. My kids don't lie; in whatever language they speak, in whatever reality they exist in and on whatever planet they came from, they are telling the truth. Just because I wasn't born on planet WTF?? and don't speak the language, bullcrap, does not mean I should assume they are lying. And don't get me started on the language barrier! I mean the words sound very much like English and I leave conversations thinking I have a grasp on what they mean, only to find out later that I was surely mistaken.

So what do I do as we are trying to learn each other's language, trying to find areas of commonality so that we can live somewhat peacefully on the same planet? Well, like Mother Issues, I use the 'trust AND verify' model. I pass no judgements on statements until such time as I can verify said statements. And verification does not occur until either 1) I can validate the statements using my 5 senses (touch, see, taste, hear or smell) or 2) they can be validated by an unbiased, external source. I spend a lot of time responding to blatant falsehoods statements with non sequiturs like "Oh really", "Isn't that interesting", "You don't say" and one of my favorites "I never quite looked at it that way".

And what do I do when I verify that that their alternate reality is clashing with mine? I chalk it up to the language barrier and try to reach some kind of common ground. Instead of arguing over 'who' spilled the kool-aid ('who' is apparently one of those words that don't translate well, along with 'where', 'what, 'when', 'how' and 'why'), I say "Hmmmm, let's get this kool-aid cleaned up before it stains". Now I know translation is a tricky skill so I have to work extra specially hard to make sure I say things like "I'm sure there was a misunderstanding 'cause when I talked to so and so parent, they knew nothing about driving you guys to the movie so how was it you are getting there?" Yeah, yeah, yeah I know, this often leads to additional statements spoken in a foreign language. But, then because I am having trouble understanding I would offer to drive child and said friend to movies and even offer to watch the movie with them. All in the hopes of increasing understanding, of course. Sometimes my helpful offers are rejected, which is sad cause then the child doesn't get to see that movie. Sometimes my brain hurts from trying to translate so I resort to simple words like 'No', which ends the conversation for me, but rarely for them. Fortunately, I am a sports official and like all sports officials I am legally, deaf, dumb and blind (job requirement!) so I am not bothered by the screeching and excessive dramatics that usually follows the word 'No'.

Hopefully, over time my kids and I will have fewer and fewer translation errors as we develop common points of reference, but until then....trust AND verify.

Which reminds me, I need to call another parent to verify he is indeed driving the kids to a concert tonight...

Do not be fooled

My household doesn't always run smoothly. I am not describing perfect children here, after all they are teenagers. Living with teenagers is a bit like living with cats:

• they accept affection on their terms
• they spend most of their time ignoring you
• they have sharp claws
• they will turn and scratch/hiss at you seemly without provocation
• they want you to clean up their messes and if you don't they will make messes out of the proscribed area
• they sleep all day
• they want to go out all night
• they don't want to tell you where they been
• Some have an aversion to soap and water
• they want to eat on demand
• they can be picky eaters
• they act as if they are in charge
• your sole purpose in life is to serve them
• they can be cute fuzzy and fun to be around

So, how do I live with the cats in my house? I recognize that like cats I can't control my teens behavior. Therefore, I have very few rules and what rules I have I set up in collaboration with them. I try to see things through their eyes. I know that at age 18 the are legally and technically adults (adults my ass, whoever made that decision should be shot!) and therefore can chose to leave my house for freedom independence. However, the only way they have any hope of being successful on their own is to develop and learn responsibility and the only way to learn responsibility is through practice. So I set up boundaries/responsibilities to help them learn to succeed without me hovering over them, for example, FS#2's computer time. I set the computer up so that certain types of sites are blocked and there are limits on time of day and how long the computer can be used. These were set up in collaboration with him and he agreed to the limits. If something is unreasonable he can come to me and present a good logical reason for why for example a site should be unblocked I do it. I have the same parental controls set up for his phone. I monitor both phone and computer use and if something inappropriate occurs I block, limit or whatever. Usually he doesn't complain because he knew he violated the rules. When he comes to me to get privilege reinstated. (and he has to come to me, I don't tell him I took the privilege away, I just do it and that is it) we talk about. If appropriate the privilege gets reinstated but only after we agree on what will happen the next time privilege is abused. Have avoided many arguments that way, not the sulking, pouting, poor pitiful me, you are only doing this because I'm a foster child attitude though. But we have come up with a solution for that too...if you are going to be in a bad mood, do not share it with everyone, do it in your room.

So far this approach seems to be working for me, but dear god, developing expectations and figuring out appropriate consequences is is hard work and frequently exhausting. It would be much easier to just set rules and exact punishments. Except according to what I learn from Raising Resilient Youth,* my job is as a parent is to teach and model responsibility and not just retaliate for when they disappoint me.

*Raising Resilient Youth is one unit of a youth and family strengthening program provided by COPES, Inc.

IRL

IRL= in real life. FS#2 finally has an IRL friend! Oh, if you asked him he has lots of friends, see as he points to his friends list on FB. He chats with them all the time and even talks to some of them on the phone. Okay so he talks to them on the phone a lot according to the detailed billing (and yes I have detailed billing so I can track who his talking to. I have even been known to causally ask who his is talking to, record the time, then go into detailed billing so I can put names to numbers). But all of these 'people' live in different states or countries (had to put a block on that!), and he has never met them. As far as I'm concerned, they are not "real" friends. But he now has a friend that you can reach out and touch, see, hear and smell! I have met this friend so I know he is real and I have even been to the friends house and met his parents! Oh happy days!

Interlude #3

Last night FS#2 announced that he was becoming a vegetarian, of course this is while he was eating BBQ. I am still trying to figure out what his definition of vegetarian is. As close as I can figure out he will not eat meat (but chicken, fish and shellfish are ok) except for at breakfast, lunch and dinner.

SpongeBob's On!

"It's 7:30 and SpongeBob's on" This is the statement that I utter every morning Monday through Friday.

"It's 7:30 and SpongeBob's on" I utter this statement as I am knocking on FS#2's door to wake him up so he can make the bus.

"It's 7:30 and SpongeBob's on" Keep in mind FS#2 is 16, a little old for Spongebob, but that is where he is emotionally--about 12. His favorite programs are Spongebob, iCarly, and other programs aired on Nick and Disney channels. And when I make the announcement that SpongeBob's on he gets up, runs down the stairs, throws himself in the recliner and squeals "SpongeBob's on!"

When FS#2 first moved in, he was a pro at getting himself up and ready for school. After 3 months not so much, as I documented in a previous post. A similar thing happen with FS#1. Though the routine was different. "Time to get up" [Silence] "Time to get up" [Silence] (repeat at least 2 more times) "I'm not leaving here until I hear feet hit floor and see your smiling face" Eventually the door cracks open and my job is done.

So why do I think this happens? Is it because I'm being soft, allowing myself to be taken advantage of or some other form of control by the kids that screams lack of discipline in my house?

I don't think so. I was complaining telling one of my co-workers the story about the morning routine with FS#1. Her response "Isn't it nice that yours is the first face he sees in the morning" Well that statement certainly brought me up short and caused me to think. Could it be that this child who has made it a habit to reject every caretaker he has had in his life is doing this to give me the chance to nurture him? A way to nurture him that does not involve any verbal, physical or emotional expressions of love? A way to nurture him that his hurt mind can accept? Hmmmm something to think about.

I read an article by Claudia Fletcher titled "Retracing Developmental Stages to Help Older Children Heal". In the article she outlines some of the developmental stages adoptive families can expect to see as the older child integrates into the family. My take home message? Parent the child where they are and not where you think they should be.

I received some confirmation that I might be on the right track with FS#1 when he announced during Christmas break from college that I am the only person who can seem to get him up in the morning. My translation of this statement, I'm the only person he trusts enough. A little background history with FS#1, when he first came into care, he literally barricaded himself in his room, he slept with a light on and peed in containers in his room so he didn't have to come out at night. Clearly in his world, bad things happen at night in his bedroom. Flash forward, he now only locks his door (and not all the time), doesn't need a night light and gets up to use the toilet in the middle of the night.

So if showing them that I love them and care about them means I have to get them up every single school day, then that's what I'll do.

"It's 7:30 and SpongeBob's on"

It's just paint

When the boys moved in I try to do something that would make them feel welcomed in my home and make their room feel like it is indeed their room. The something generally involves paint. Painting their rooms is a nice bonding experience.

I asked FS#1 what color he wanted to paint his room, he could paint it any color after all it is just paint. So of course he picked black. Great, calling my bluff, the thought of a total black room was...shudder. So we negotiated on one black wall. Then he asked if he could have his friends sign his walls. I told him that we could work with that. There just so happens to be something called blackboard paint and we can paint an entire wall with it so he and his friends can draw on the wall all you want. In the end, he ended up with a dark grey wall and ceiling, gold walls and centered in the middle of the dark grey wall, one fantastic chalkboard. The color scheme would not be my choice but I have to admit, it worked. I got him those liquid chalk pens that come in brilliant fluorescent colors (and are washable--bonus!) to use on the chalk board. I also told him he was responsible for what his friends wrote on the wall. If I was forced to remove inappropriate writing, I would not be held responsible for what all I erased. He did a great job of policing his friends.

Fast forward to the week before he went to college. FS#1 and I were sitting on his bed staring at his wall. He talked about how much he loved that wall, pointed out favorite or special graffiti how cool his friends thought the wall was and that he was the only one in his posse that had something like this. He also wished he could take the wall to college with him. I told him he could take a picture of is wall for college, but that the wall will still be here for when he comes home.

Now I know that the chalk board was all about marking his territory, staking his claim or whatever. I also know that part of the desire to write on the walls stems from an early developmental age that he did not get to experience. The wall is also tangible representation of permanency. I know all that psycho babble stuff, but what is really important, that wall made me the coolest mom in his posse!

10 am and it is still quiet

By the sound of complete quiet (okay with the exception of FS#2 cats who apparentely got into the cat nip and are partying down in his room), you wouldn't know that there are 4 teenage boys in my house! Well you wouldn't know it as long as I don't look in the kitchen where the remains from the midnight snacks are still waiting for me to clean them up.

Because of the instability of FS#1 early childhood, he never had very many friends. So now his friends are very important to him. So important that bad decisions have been made because of wanting to keep friends close. So important that he and his close friends traveling in packs when he is home on breaks. And I do mean travel in a pack. Enough so that one of his friends annouced when he walked through the door that it was good to see me cause he missed my cooking! The pack alternates at whose house they sleep and tonight it was at my house.

Permanency means having a house where your friends can just drop in and hang out for a while.

Depressing--Update

Thank you to all of you who responded to my depressing rant (double entrendre intended). I am not usually so race sensitive, race concious--yes, race sensitive--no. I intend for this blog to be about my foster sons' journey, not mine...it's not always about me (through I have a t-shirt that states otherwise--no really I do!). And thank you for your blog recommendations! I will be checking them out. You know that old saying 'it would help if babies came with a manual'? Well it is doublely true when parenting tramatized kids, a manual would be really helpful! But, alas there is not one, so I read other people's blogs to learn tips, people who are also parenting tramautized kids, kids who already been tramautized in other situations, so as not to continually tramautize them in my home. If that makes any sense. And during my search I found a missing voice, the voice of black foster parents. Which doesn't mean that I can't learn from non black foster parents (can and do), but...

Now shhhhh I going to let you in on a little secret...all black people are not the same! Yep, it's true, just cause I am black does not mean I know about all things black--just ask FS#1. FS#1 disrupted his pre-adoptive placement in part because of race--so he says. Now I am and still friends with his former pre-adoptive family and was in and out of their house during FS#1 stay there. There were issues and race was one, but IMHO the major one, I think not. However, I do think that it was the easy one for him to complain about. And in his case some of the misunderstandings revolved around hair. FS#1 is vain about his hair and he currently wears it cornrow with braids. His former pre-adoptive parents weren't interested in learning how to take care of black hair, and turned over that responsibility to him. All of this worked okay until the pre-adoptive parents found out in order to save money FS#1 was having his hair done in the projects by a crack whore. And no, I am not just stereotyping here, this person was a crack whore but because of professional ethics I can't reveal how I know. His pre-adoptive parents hit the ceiling! Oh did I mention they found out because the crack whore accused FS#1 of stealing money and was trying to blackmail them into paying xxx amount of money or she would file police charges? So the pre-adoptive parents forbid FS#1 from going there to have his hair done, you know for safety reasons. However to FS#1 they were discriminating against him because of black hair and its not his fault that the only people who could do his hair for $10 are crack whores!

Now I bet you are wondering why I wondered down this memory lane and what it has to do with the depressing post, aren't you? Good question. Okay punch line of this story; imagine FS#1 surprise when I told him that 1) I don't do hair. Dear god I pay someone else to do MY hair and I DON'T KNOW HOW TO CORNROW! Braid, yes, cornrow, no. 2) his hair is his responsibility and no he can't pay a crack whore $10 to do his hair (oh and for point of reference, if FS#1 went to a salon he would have to pay $50-$90 in my little neck of the woods to have his hair braided; also FS#1 recieved a very generous allowance from me, 25% of his foster care stipend and I got extra money because of his special medical needs so he could pay to have his hair done professionally).

So you see, I need the help, advice and perspective of other black foster parents.

PS. FS#1 very cleverly found a way to have his hair done even cheaper, like for free. He realized some of his friends in high school were going to voctech school in cosmotology and they needed to log many hours of practice before they took their licensing test. Voila, match made in heaven!

Interlude #2

FS#1 had successfully passed his 18th birthday without leaving foster care. His sw and the foster care placement worker were so pleased with his placement they asked me about taking in another teen. I told them I would have to take it up with FS#1 cause the decision would effect him and I didn't think he was ready to give up his only child status.

So I broached the subject of another foster child with FS#1 and his response to me was:

"Oh no! You don't know what you will get!"

Ah, how quickly they forget!

College essay

This is an excerpt from FS#1 college essay; all identifying information has been removed. The essay is reprinted here both with his permission and in his language (I edited the final copy for grammar). The imagery that he invokes nearly brought me to tears the first time I read it.

Perseverance

I was raised around a lot of people who went away and came back. They were not the best people to influence a child and throughout my life I’ve had to rise above much of what I have experienced. I have come to know the meaning of hard work after participating in a lot of extracurricular and life activities. They became my escape from the environment I have worked so hard to overcome. With so much negativity around me, I’ve learned how to listen and learn from the mistakes of my many foster parents.

People around me made a point to say that I could not succeed. I was told that like most, I would become a product of my environment. College was far off for me, something I would hear about only while watching television. My street was filled with “has-beens:” high school basketball players with talent who believed they were going to the big show. Even for my gifted neighbors, college was not an option because of grades and our horrible school system. I felt as if I was going to become like them -- just another statistic. Starting over was something I had gotten used to in my life, having already moved to my third foster family by then. I’ve handled those changes and have come to depend on the unsteady nature of my home life. Most of these sudden changes I had little control over. Leaving on somebody else’s terms was the theme of my life.

During high school I had another family switch and decided to play sports as a means of coping. Since 10th grade I have managed four varsity sports in three seasons. With the challenge of home and school, sports helped me to balance study and a busy schedule. It gave me skills in problem solving and in expressing myself, but more importantly, it was a great distraction to situation.

My goal is to create the circumstances of my life and going to college is the first step. As I’ve gotten old enough to think about my future, it has become important to me to live on my own terms with healthy goodbyes and encouraging support. I want the chance to be happy and I know that going to college will propel me into an environment where that is really possible.

What ever happened to my perfect child?

When FS#2 moved in 3 months ago, he worked so hard to be that 'perfect' child...he so desperately wanted to be in a family. Though initially I was not the family he wanted. He didn't want to live with a single black woman--check. He didn't want to be the only child in the house--check. Anyway, he was up, dressed and sitting downstairs by 6 am waiting to go to school even tho the bus didn't come 'til 8 am. He room was meticulously clean as was the bathroom. He removed his laundry from the dryer immediately. He did his chores without asking. He showered every night. Ah, those were the days.

Fast forward to 3 months later. I have to drag him out of bed to make the bus. There are clothes scattered all over his room (along with dishes, apparently he wakes up hungry in the middle of the night and needs to snack, which in his case is generally a repeat of dinner including vegetables!). His clothes have been sitting in the dryer for 3 days now. Chores?! Oh he does them when I remind him, but he is a pro at walking by work without seeing it. He showers, but not frequently enough (for my taste) now that he is running track (nothing like the smell of boy stank wrafting through the air and contary to their belief, febreeze is not a substitute for soap and water). Ah, he is beginning to display the oh so annoying behaviors of a 'real' teen!

I am both horrified and overjoyed at his progress! The last time I had this conflicting feeling was when FS#1 shared with me his FB page!

Depressing

I have searched the blogsphere looking for foster care blogs written by people who kinda sorta are like me. And so far I have found bumpkiss. Oh I have found a few blogs written by people who are fostering/adopting older adolescents, but those are few and far between. I have even found blogs written by heathens like myself, but the one characteristic I have that seems to be missing from the blog world is blogs written by Black foster care parents! Where oh where are you? Cause I know you exist.

For the record, I am:

• NOT religious--God did not call me to do this work or if god did it is not the Christian God. I have been know to show up to church, an open and affirming UCC church, which I like to say are UU's who believe in Christ through that is not a requirement. I association with this church because of their social justice work. I believe in the philosophy that you can be part of the problem or part of the solution. I choose to be part of the solution.
• Black, or African-American or person of color or whatever the current PC term is. The titles may change, I however, stay the same.
• Single
• Gay
• and a foster parent to two teenage boys

Now I know that it would be a miracle to find another blogger with all those same attributes so I'm willing to settle for the important ones, fostering teens and Black foster parent. And those two don't even have to be in the same package!

Interlude #1

I took FS#1 to a department store to buy him a dress shirt and tie for his prom. FS#1 wasn't too sure about this process as he has never bought any clothes from a department store, only the X-marts and maybe if he was lucky Tarjay. So I am almost dragging him to the men's department. Of course he had no idea what size shirt he wore, but I told him not to worry, that's what the little sales doobies were there for, its their job. So I got the attention of one of the sales doobies and dragged him over to FS#1. I informed the sales doobie that FS#1 needed a dress shirt for the prom, but he had no idea what size he wore. So....the sales doobie got out his tape measure and proceeded to take FS#1 chest, neck, arm and back measurements. The look on FS#1 face while this was happening was priceless, this experience was sooooo far out of FS#1 box. He had the exact same look on his face as when he was at the airport getting the pat down! Anyway, after trying on a few shirts, he selected a french cut white dress shirt. We then selected a tie that would match his girlfriends dress (I was surprised at how well the tie matched gf dress; FS#1 is not known for his observation powers).

Once we got home, FS#1 ran upstairs to try on the new shirt. About 2 minutes later he came flying down the steps (I think he only hit 2 or 3 of them) threw the shirt at me and flung his self on the couch announcing "This shirt is booby trapped!" It took me a few seconds to realize that he was referring to THE PINS in the shirt! ROTFLMAO! I helped him get all the pins out of the shirt and he tried it on. He was amazed at how well it fit. It was the first shirt that actually fit in the arms and wasn't super baggy in the waist. He was very pleased with his bad self.

I am raising two only children

Sigh, the foster parent strategy of raising them as only children seems to be working for me so far. However, I have forgotten how soul-sucking having both of them at home can be.

When FS#1 moved in I realized that he needed to be the only child in the house. He needed and deserved to have 100% of a parent's attention for a change. I told the foster care people that I couldn't take in another teen until I was certain that FS#1 felt secure enough to be ready to share me. I figure that would happen, oh about the time he went to college. So I set about spoiling trying to provide a ‘normal’ senior year experience for him. Which included such things as getting and paying for his cell phone, getting him an x-box for christmas, throwing him a big-ass 18th birthday party, helping him get his driver’s license AND letting him drive my car, buying him a dress shirt and a decent tie (from a department store instead of Wally World) for his prom, allowing him to have friends over, allowing him to spend the night at friends houses and traveling all over the state to attend athletic events (you really know you have become a parent when you are sitting in the pouring rain at a athletic event and the only other people in the stands are the other parents of the team).

So, after FS#1 went to college, I decided that I could have another foster kid (ok so I was experiencing empty nest syndrome!). Ran the idea by FS#1 and he was concerned until I assured him that the new kid would not be put into his room. New kid would have his own room. Funny story, FS#1 sw, Wonderful, was also concerned what would happen to FS#1 if new kid moved in. I had to assure her too, that I was still committed to FS#1 and that his place in the house hierarchy would not be altered. So it was all cleared for FS#2 to move in.

Now since FS#1 is at college, for all intents and purposes, FS#2 is an only child except for school breaks when FS#1 comes home (Oh and when I travel all over the state to attend FS#1 athletic events; he is playing sports in college). The problem comes in that both boys are used to being only children and having 100% of my time and they still behave that way when they both are in the house. It is subtle, there are no fights or confrontations between them, in fact that are quite courteous with each other. But do not be fooled they are still competing for my attention. For example, FS#1 wrote on my christmas gift tag “From your first born”. A not-so-subtle reminder of his place in the hierarchy. They are always checking to see if I have given the other something they don’t have or I’m doing something for the other that I didn’t do for (with) them.

Trying to balance both of their needs is exhausting, emotionally and physically. I hate to say it, but as much as I love having FS#1 home, it is always a bit of a relief when he goes back to college. I always feel like I need to sleep for 24 hours, but of course I can’t ‘cause I’m busy helping FS#2 become a ‘real’ boy (traveling all over the state for athletic events, helping him get his driver’s license....)

I am feeling so old...

Conversation I had in the car with FS#2

FS#2: "Who is Elton John"

Me: "A famous entertainer, a music icon"

FS#2: "Oh....is he gay"

Me: "Yes"

FS#2: "Would straight people have heard about him?"

Me: "Ah...

Alcohol and Sex Education

Sigh, I may have to start a private blog to record the alcohol and sex talks I have with the boys. Apparentely, I have miscommunicated (again!) the house alcohol policy to man-child FS#1. Is there a word that says NO better than no? You would think that FS#1 would have gotten the message after being arrested for things that stemmed from bad decisions made while under the influence, spending 36 hours in jail, having multiple court dates, spending at least $1,000 of his own money, having a suspended license and other inconviences. But apparentely not. Oh to be 19 and stupid.

I need to have phase 2 talk with FS#2 on sex. Now I know plenty of 20ish and 30ish gay health educators who can do this all important education for me, but the problem people's busy schedules and 16 yo hormones are not compatible. So, into the abyss I go. It doesn't help that the information I pass on to FS#2 will be shared with peers...that is what happen with the phase 1 talk. The pressure, the pressure.

Tired

Last night around 5:30 pm got a text from FS#1, "Im catchn a ride ride late tonight!" I translate messaage to be I'm catching a ride home late tonight. Apparently, FS#1 has no classes on friday (how the heck he swing that?!) and found a ride home for spring break early. I wasn't expecting him until sat.!

So at 11:30 pm got text "Im just leavin nw" It's a 2.5 hour drive from College to Home. So first thing I text back is "Is ur ride dropping u off @ house?" An hour later I get the reply that it is indeed door to door service. So what do I do? Stay up waiting for FS#1 to arrive home. He arrives around 2 am and second thing he does is hit the fridge (the 1st thing is to give me a BIG hug).

FS#1 is very glad to be home on spring break. He is HOMESICK. The fact that he is homesick is a big deal. This is the kid who planned to walk out of the system on his 18th birthday. This is the kid who couldn't wait to leave every single placement he had...until now. Poor kid, just before he left for college he realized that for the first time he wasn't running away from a living situation. He got HOMESICK. He got homesick before he even left home! This was the first place that was Home, a safe secure place to be. Never Ever Underestimate the power of PERMANENCY.

So now I'm tired, couldn't sleep in like FS#1 cause had to get up to make sure FS#2 got off to school, but I wouldn't have it anyother way.

Where does all the food go?!

Last night I baked 20 chicken legs with the idea there would be leftovers. This morning there are 3 count 'em 3 chicken legs in the fridge! Now I ate 2 last night for dinner and I put 3 on FS#2 plate, but that leaves 12 chicken legs unaccounted for! Wait, I packed FS#2's lunch so that accounts for 3 more. Hmmm 9 chicken legs disappeared overnight. And I don't buy the excuse that the cats ate them.

Statements commonly heard around my house...

no, No, NO!

How's that working out for ya?

Sucks to be you

Ya might wanta think about doin' something different--just sayin'

TMI! TMI!

Thanks for sharing (generally uttered with resigned sarcasm when FS#2 shares with me he is going to the bathroom....and why!)

That sucks...so what are you going to now?

Ya think that is going to get you where you want to go?

You can kept arguing with me all you want, but the answer is still goin' be NO

Where is the....you mean you ate the entire (fill in the blank)?!

Whatdya mean we are all out of (fill in the blank), I just went shopping yesterday!

That's what they're there for (FS#1 asking if he can share contents of condom drawer with his friends)