A family for Blake and Megan!

Little mommy Savannah with the first baby she ever helped care for- Megan...

And the foster/ newly adoptive family...

These are my niece Jessica's children- the ones I cared for on and off when the baby, Megan was born with heroin, pot, crack, and cocaine in her system. I had them both while their mother was in rehab for several months, and when the state took them again after she left rehab for a crooked, creepy, abusive loser. Once the state gave them back to her in another city far from us, it didnt take long for her to lose them again. We were not even given the option at that time to keep them- Jessica didn't want us to have them because we knew too much information about her. She wanted us out of the picture. They were placed in foster care and we were not allowed to know anything about them or who they were with. This past Christmas time, we were contacted by the foster family- Jessica had finally given them our number thinking we were going to help her get them back. (huh?) Well, anyway, we had a nice spaghetti dinner at my home and gave the kids Christmas gifts and got to know the family- it was actually our second visit with them in a matter of weeks.




This is my wonderful friend, Janine. She rescued me when Megan was a newborn with drugs in her system and I took her and her sweet big brother Blake into my home. I was out of my mind and could hardly deal with the situation- I was overwhelmed- Blake had lice and had passed it on to a few of my kids before we realized he had it, he also had terrible behaviour issues due to the horrible circumstances of his young life. Megan was very fussy and needed round the clock attention. So this wonderful friend, Janine, came to the rescue and started keeping the baby for several nights at a time so I could sleep. Eventually days turned into weeks and soon, it was me who would
"babysit" Megan for Janine if she needed me. She fell in love with Megan, even offered to adopt her, but Jessica refused. The saddest day was when Jessica got the kids back, and Megan screamed and cried at about 5 or 6 months old, when she was taken from Janines arms. Janine was devestated. She had truly bonded with Megan, and was even told by everyone that she and Megan looked alike. When we reunited at Christmas time, I had Janine there to see the kids- she seemed sad and quiet, but grateful to see that the kids were being well cared for.




Whenever these beautiful children were in my home, Lucas became the nurturer and caretaker in many ways. When we had Megan with us for the first month, and then after Janine began caring for her and we "babysat" for her, it was Lucas who always seemed to have that little red headed baby in his arms. We would often find him sleeping on the couch with the baby on his chest. He was in heaven.




And of course, Isaiah had fallen in love with both the children also. What a wonderful reunion!

So anyway, this sweet little girl and her big brother have finally got stability- a real family. Jessica finally lost her parental rights in March and the adoption of these children is under way by an amazing family- we just love them. We will be allowed to see and interact with the kids and are so happy for them. Now the big thing for us to do is pray, pray, pray for them, and for Jessica. Her life has been a living hell- some of it put on her, and much of it brought on by herself. I hope she finds peace in her life somehow, and healing...

sassy boy

One day five year old Isaiah is sitting on grandmothers porch off her wing of our house. He is just sitting on the stairs thinking, and I bring grandmother outside (this is when she was still walking, and getting around, but her mind is still ravaged by alzheimers). She walks past Isaiah and starts to go down the stairs in front of him. Just for background here, grandmother is a southern lady. Manners are very important indeed. We never say butt, poopoo fart, etc. (Speaking from experience here). Here is the dialogue from this point:

Isaiah: (In his slow southern drawl) "Grandmother, git yer butt out of mah face."

Grandmother: (In her very stern and angry voice) "Young man don't you EVER say that again, or I'll pull evey hair out of your head, do you hear me?!!"

Isaiah: "Well, yer butt was in mah face." ( for the best effect here, you really do have to hear the slow, deliberate, dead serious, Eeyore voice.)


I guess he wasn't too scared of grandma...

Good thing for Isaiah, he didn't have to be scared. By the time I scolded him, she had already forgotten he said it! Otherwise, I would have a picture of bald Isaiah to go with this story!