Summaries and Excerpts: One for the Murphys / Lynda Mullaly Hunt.
But the day she becomes a foster child, and moves in with the Murphys, she's blindsided. Tm. Off. The scanning, uploading and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without . I wonder why she's happy to meet me. Shelley said: ***SPOILER ALERT*** If you have not read the book and don't We meet Carley as she is released from the hospital and making her way to a. emotional walls high and thick. But the day she becomes a foster child, and moves in with the Murphys, she's blindsided. This. Meet Libby. Learn more here.
Reminds me of Lucky's Laundromat back in Vegas, but it isn't nearly as bright. The fireplace spans an entire wall in the step-down family room; the mantel is covered with St. MacAvoy leaves, saying, "Good luck. Murphy closes the door behind her, she turns to me. The idea of me settling in here is about as likely as an apple tree sprouting in my ear. She picks up the backpack that Family Services gave me, which has a stuffed giraffe, a toothbrush, and a pair of bright yellow fairy pajamas that remind me that there are worse things than death.
The stuffed giraffe is good, though. Anyone who has had her whole life shredded in one night should have a stuffed giraffe. Murphy takes me up the staircase. There are thirteen steps to the top, the tenth one being a squeaker. Soon we stand in a bedroom decorated in the theme of fire trucks. I know it isn't well suited to a girl your age. I moved Michael Eric in with Adam so you'd have some privacy.
You know, I assumed you'd be a boy. If you want to call me Julie instead of Mrs.
One for the Murphys
Murphy, that would be fine. I don't want to call her anything. She seems okay, but I don't want someone else's family. MacAvoy said you'd been asking for books at the hospital, so I put a bunch you may like on the top shelf there.
I turn to look at them. Best thing so far. I hope that's okay. I made it a couple of weeks ago and stuck it in the basement freezer. Murphy turns to go, closing the door behind her. He knows you're here. I stand at the door and want to go in but don't. I see the Murphys' bedroom door is open, so I go in there instead. The bed is high off the ground and has a woven canopy over it. There are pictures all over the room on tables and shelves.
There's a man in a Navy uniform. There's also a wedding picture, and I see that the groom is the same as the Navy guy.
I wish my mother had been married to my father. The bathroom door opens behind me, and I feel like I've been caught doing something wrong. I jump back into the table, and the Navy man picture smashes on the floor. I blurt out, "Sorry. I'll clean it later. When will she get mad? She pokes her head in. Leave the water in the tub, honey. She turns toward me, waiting for an answer.
I can see she becomes impatient as her gaze jumps between me and the bathroom. I wonder if my mother is awake yet. She seems to force a smile. Jack hates it anyway. I know I am not apologizing for the picture.
I am sorry for being there in the first place. Murphy lets me skip dinner. Says it's only for the first night. I hear a happy family downstairs, talking and laughing, and I am relieved that I am not with them.
In the dark bedroom that is not my own, I count the wheels on the trucks over and over. I count the little firemen running around to help people. I stare at the hero sign and count the curves and lines of the letters.
I wonder if, in my whole life, I could ever be someone's hero. I think I hear my mother calling my name in the night, and I pull the covers up under my chin. I remind myself how she told me to never cry. How she and her friends would laugh at me when I did. How my mother would tell me that crying was for suckers, and that you can't be a sucker in Vegas. I know that wherever my mother is, she has to be thinking about me, and I know I will go to her if she needs me, no matter what the state says.
I hope that if I'm patient, I will have a mother of my own again. At night, the house is quiet. Too quiet for sleeping. The digital clock reads 2: I watch and wait for 2: The number six makes me remember my mother's favorite vase. How I filled it with six big, clear marbles with deep blue swirls inside, even when she told me not to.
How my elbow sent it to the carpeted floor, and how when we cleaned it up, there were six pieces. We glued the vase back together, but it was misshapen and couldn't hold water anymore. I'm afraid that's the way my mother and I will be now. I'm afraid that no matter how many times I apologize for messing things up with her new husband, Dennis, we will remain misshapen and unable to hold water. I so wish I'd been able to see her before leaving the hospital. I think back to my last night there--just twenty-four hours ago.
About how I tried to sneak out of my room and find my mother in intensive care. How I kept thinking that if I was any daughter at all, I'd be able to find her.
One for the Murphys - Lynda Mullaly Hunt - Google Livres
When the nurse caught me, I blurted out to her how sorry I was for making Dennis mad. Like by telling her, my mother would know too. The nurse walked me back to my room and told me to get some sleep. I don't know why, when things are horrible, people always tell you to get some sleep. I bet it's because if you're asleep, they know you'll leave them alone.
When she turned to leave, I remember thinking that I was afraid to be alone. The nurse turned out the lights before she left. And I was in the dark. Just like I am now. The next morning, I sip orange juice. Good, ordinary, boring orange juice with no added kiwi or pomegranate. Murphy went out last night to get it for me after I told her I only liked it plain.
I think it's freakish that she got it just because I'd asked for it. Whenever I'd asked my mother for orange juice, she'd ask me if I were a Rockefeller. For years I'd thought that a Rockefeller was a person who really loves oranges. The back door slams and there's instant screaming and crying; now this place finally feels a little like home.
Michael Eric comes in with his hand tucked into his armpit. His mother drops to the floor like someone has kicked her behind the knees, but she lands gently, holding out her arms, and he melts into them. He tells how Adam smashed his hand. She takes his hand and kisses it. She wipes his tears away and he spins and runs back outside.
Murphy goes to the door and calls Adam. Again she kneels and asks him if he hit his little brother. At first he denies it. Then she poses a simple question. If there's half a brain in his head, he'll stick to the story.
He pauses and says, "I whaled him, Mommy, but he deserved it. She tilts her head. Brothers stick together, right? Family looks out for family. My stomach has such a longing in it that I want to throw up. The tone, the look on her face and the look on his, a gentle brush of his hair. A kiss on top of the head. I struggle to decipher a foreign language. She's looking at him like she's seeing the best thing ever.
Even though he's done something wrong. I no longer have the stomach for this juice that she bought for me. I go to the sink and pour it out. I don't belong here. I begin to think that a foster mother who smokes cigars and makes me sleep in the basement would be a relief.
It's Me, Carley When Mrs. Murphy comes back into the kitchen, she looks nervous as she studies me. She seems to think about things a lot before she speaks, which makes me wonder what she doesn't say.
Murphy begins, in her perky voice. She makes it sound like I'm on a vacation. How she'd tell the refs to go back to reffing blind man's basketball when they made a call against me. How I thought it was funny, but the other mothers used to tell her that it was inappropriate, which only made her louder. She glances at me and then glances again. I put it on. Outside, I find a basketball right away. It's green with shamrocks. Can't anything just be the way I expect around here? I can see my breath, and it reminds me of the smoke in the casinos when my mother would leave me in the lobby to wait for her.
She'd do a few of the slot machines just inside the door where she could see me waiting on the bench. How she'd do a thumbs-up when she won, or yell "Send me luck! Standing there in the cold, in front of the house that's the color of dirt, I decide to ask God a question. I close my eyes and turn the ball in my hands. I say in a whisper, "Okay.MarriedToMurphy: EPISODE 1 -- MEET THE MURPHYS --
If I make this basket, then my mother still loves me. It gets wedged between the board and the back of the hoop. I know that means something, but I don't know what. At first, I think it's God. Like he has time to talk to me.
I did the work of getting it up there; you get it down. Daniel waves to a guy pulling into the driveway in a pickup. It must be Mr. The door of the truck squeaks when he opens it. He slams the door, messes Daniel's hair, looks up at the ball, and says, "Good shot. Murphy comes toward me, faster than I would like.
He holds out his hand. He makes me want to run. Murphy comes out through the garage. Murphy kisses her on the cheek and whispers something. She smiles at him. Then he grabs a small duffel bag from his truck and heads inside. Murphy's smile falls away, and now she's rattled. I hear worry in her voice. I hardly know Daniel, but I hate him anyway. I have this feeling, though, that if I don't lay off the prince, Mrs.
MacAvoy will be back for me. I have seen kids come into a new home with their guard up, keeping an aloof distance from everyone because they were afraid to get too close. In Oklahoma, we try to keep them in the same schools for consistency, but that is often not possible, so there is more anxiety and more concerns about being an outsider at the new school.
After a while, though, those walls the foster kids put up start to crumble a little at a time. Some days they seem to be gone completely, but one little thing can build them right back up in an instant. Foster kids are sponges - they watch and absorb everything for processing later.
They do most of this on their own, just like Carley. The feelings of not belonging are constant, even when they are with other family members. It takes patience and time and near-constant reassurance that they are safe, they are loved, they belong, they are good, they are smart, they are winners I loved the interaction between Carley and the boys.
It also rang pretty true. I liked the conversations between Carley and Mr. Murphy, but I was sad that these didn't really seem to occur often until Toni broke the ice with Mr. Murphy through their baseball rivalry of the Yankees and Red Sox. Murphy was good and honest and kind and caring. She genuinely loved Carley and tried to do the right thing by her. I figured out she had been a foster child way before she admitted it to Carley.
I liked that the family was able to show their emotions with each other, and to demonstrate that families can disagree and argue, but forgive and still love each other. I enjoyed Carley's friendship with Toni, and her antagonistic relationship with Rainer. Although, I wish Rainer's character had been a little more explained.
It would have been nice to have seen them call a more definite truce on their own, without interference from Toni. When Carley asked if she could call Mrs.
Murphy "Mom", she is rebuffed - gently, but still rebuffed and still heartbroken. There is no discussion about using a nickname. Murphy's excuse is, "I just don't think it would be a healthy thing for you", even after Carley says she knows it's just pretend.
Murphy was a foster child, so she should have known how important this was to give Carley a sense of belonging and fitting in - even if it was pretend and there was no intention to make Carley a permanent part of the family. Wanting to call the foster parents "mom" and "dad" is completely normal, especially when there are other children in the home who do so. Murphy should have known how the court system worked, yet she spoke as if she had no understanding of the legal system with regard to foster care.
MacAvoy, the social worker, was basically non-existent. Once she placed Carley in the home, she did not bother to come visit and check on her until Carley called her several weeks later. I don't work in Connecticut where the book is setbut I find it very hard to believe that once they place a child, social workers don't have to go back out unless they get a phone call.
The social worker should have had an on-going and hopefully, close relationship with Carley. MacAvoy should have kept the foster parents and Carley in the loop as to what was going on in the court case. MacAvoy is a peripheral figure who is crazy busy all the time and even talks to Carley like she is a bother sometimes. While social workers are mostly crazy busy, our kids deserve our full attention and respect, even when they are not acting their best.
Chapter 1 — One for the Murphys
Carley should also have had an attorney who represented her only, and who would also have kept her informed on the case. Carley should have been asked what she wanted to happen in the case - whether or not she wanted to go back to her mother or if she felt safe with her.
Carley had no professional to express her feelings to - not the social worker, not an attorney, not a counselor, no one. No foster child who had been through what she went through would have been without a therapist. Foster Parents are not trained as counselors.
Victims of abuse and neglect need the insight of professionals to ensure they are getting the proper treatment to move forward in their lives and to ensure they do not blame themselves for what happened to them.