So for my first day alone in my life, although my parents live in an attached house to us and I have two unemployed grown sons living with me, I planned a busy day after spending an initial hour at the schools putting out emotional fires and wiping tears.

I came home to utter silence that is monumental when one has 39 children. It is never quiet here.

I cleaned up for awhile and a friend dropped by. She’s a Probation Officer in the next county and made her point to one of my sons that I’d been fussing at for over an hour. He quickly replied, “Yes M’am,” and went out the door, while I just could not get through to my other son who has lost quite a few jobs since leaving the Navy.

I read a great deal about Fetal Alcohol Effects (FAE) as my son obviously struggles with this. I suppose I should just be grateful that it isn’t full-blown Fetal Alcohol Syndrome. I simply can’t imagine more of a lack of focus and logic.

He’d tried to convince me that there just weren’t any jobs to be had in the month of August. There’s a university within 15 miles of our house with 40,000 students coming back into town, cranking up our local economy and creating service jobs yet my sons balk at my suggestions and think they know it all, but I don’t see a paycheck boys.

I’ve often felt that my children were, and are, emotionally immature, there’s an understatement, as I’ve watched a 19 year old son pitch a hissy fit over nothing, I’ve seen 20 something year olds cry at the drop of a hat, and not a one of my teens made it through those years, hitting age-appropriate milestones without thuds, bumps and scrapes.

Reading this particular page today, divided by ages as it describes the traits of FAE, I spent quite some time thinking how the kindergarten through sixth grade behavior could describe some of my much older kids. You probably shouldn’t go read it if this is what you’re dealing with now. It gives little hope.

I’d left to go to Wal-Mart, aggravated and frustrated with both guys, needing a ton of school supplies for the other kids. My oldest daughter went with me and we ran into yet another daughter of mine while there. Then also a grown son was there, getting a blade for his saw…Is this a small town or what?

And I look at my older adopted kids who’ve all struggled so hard to get to where they are now. I know that I can’t ever measure nor determine the amount of alcohol that was imbibed by their birth parents, I’m quite sure that all of these children of mine came from drug and alcohol abusers, it’s documented in their case studies, and it’s often evident in their mannerisms, yet I remain very encouraged at their inner strength that eventually pulls them through much of this.

I’ll try and remind myself of that in the morning when I again have to get two grown sons going.