Intragram

Over the course of this year, I've found myself following several foster families on Instagram. Most of these families are very large, mom and dad, 5 plus kids, huge house with all white decor, and apparently a personal photographer that captures every moment in their freshly cleaned kitchen. Based on the mess I'm trying to keep up with in our house, I'm sure they have a housekeeper.

Last night as I looked through some of these families' pictures, I searched for something that looked familiar...a Paw Patrol toy, some dirty socks on the floor, crumbs...oh the crumbs. Couldn't find it. I started wondering what it would be like to live in a house like that. They all look happy in their pictures. Are they? I asked myself if I was envious...not really. Except maybe the housekeeper part.

I started reading the captions and what I realized is that even though our homes, our clothes, and our pictures are quite different, our stories are much the same. Court dates, prayers, heartache, tears, joy, connection, trauma, memories, and love are the things that fill all our homes big and small. They have the same hopes and fears that I have. They want to share love and stability with their children and they pray desperately that the love and stability they've shown will never again be absent from their children's lives.

When I think back to my childhood, most of my best memories were made in a rickety two bedroom home with all our cousins and friends piled in the living room on pallets. We'd leave the ballfields late a night and my parents would bring half the team home for a sleepover. Mom would grab a couple dozen tacos and we would picnic on the floor. If we had games the next day, she'd leave late to go to my grandparents or the laundromat and wash our uniforms. I wish I could give her a dollar for all the grass and dirt stains she scrubbed out.

I'm grateful for my childhood and equally as grateful for the life I'm able to give my children. Our home is small, but it is HOME. It is full of love and laughter and sometimes it's really messy. I'm grateful that there's not a photographer capturing us at the dinner table, eating Sonic...again.

I'm not really sure the reason behind why I was lead to share these thoughts, but maybe to remind us that we're more alike than we are different. Appearances can be deceiving. Or maybe it was simply to remind us that childhood is precious, and it doesn't need to be flashy to be spectacular.

Plot Twist

I truly walked into today with confidence. I felt good about what would happen in court. I had played through each of the scenarios that seemed possible for weeks in my head and worked hard to prepare my heart for any of the outcomes I'd imagined. It was finally here...a termination hearing.

All the boxes had been checked, all the ducks seemed to be in a nice little row, and in my heart I believed that God and the judge on that stand were about to free my baby boy for me to adopt. He's been with me over 20 months. We haven't heard a peep from his mother in over 6 months, nor has she made any effort to stay in touch with her attorney or DHS. His dad has been MIA since the day he came into custody. We had the paternal grandparents that surfaced this time last year and decided to pursue custody. God worked on all our hearts and in the past year, we somehow became united in what was best for our boy. We've openly communicated, met halfway to exchange our sweet boy for visits, and finally agreed that an open adoption was best for everyone. They are slowly but surely becoming more like family. I've never met A's dad but oddly enough his parents are starting to feel like inlaws. It's been a whirlwind of emotions, family team meetings, court dates, more court dates, rehabs, arrests, visits, no visits, calls, and no calls. It's been crying my heart out to God and sometimes it's crying myself to sleep. I've experienced hope, and unbelievable frustration. I've felt all the highs and all the lows that are foster care. I really had high hopes that today would be the day that all of that became a part of the back story of the rest of our lives...together.

Sis has been with us for 9 months. It's weird to say that because it seems like she's always been a part of our story. Bub and I couldn't imagine life without her. Since there's been so much less time that she's been in custody, I was totally prepared for the judge to leave the door open today on her parental rights, especially where dad is concerned. He surfaced...well semi surfaced a few weeks back. He had been in contact with his attorney and spoke about being willing to relinquish his rights in an open adoption. The sympathetic side of me understood that he knows what's best for her but can't really phathom NEVER being able to see her again. The momma bear in me was pissed the fuck off that he would even think this was an option. I want to scream at him "YOU WERE HER PERSON!!!" We haven't heard from him since October. He just walked away and didn't look back. I've held her while she cried herself to sleep, drive her weekly to therapy so she can process the feelings of abandonment and betrayal, and been everything to her that a momma should be. No, you don't just get to walk in and out of my girl's life. She deserves so much more.

Today, none of that mattered. It was all in the past and it had all led to THIS...

My mom went with me. She's my greatest support....always. We waited, what seemed like forever outside the court room. Several families went in and back out but our name wasn't called. Finally people started filtering out of the court room. I see familiar DHS faces, attorneys, and even the judge. The case worker stops to tell us the judge wanted to talk with everyone outside of the courtroom and be briefed before we started our case. They all went into what seemed like a super secret room where super secret information would be shared. My mind raced, and I wished more than anything that I could be a fly on the wall. We waited some more. Finally a familiar face emerged from the room. She was in a hurry but said this walking by, "good news, and uhhh delayed good news."  I really don't know what this means but I scroll through my brain files of possible scenarios. I looked at mom and briefly we both came to the conclusion that they would be terminating parental rights for brother bear and we would have to wait  awhile longer for sister to be ours. I could live with that. I had prepared my heart  for this scenario. A few minutes goes by and she comes back to explain what she meant. "There was an error in the publication for 'Baby A'. We will have to re-publish and set a new date. Everything is squared away for sister though."

What??? An error. I felt like I had been punched in the gut. As she walked away, I could feel the sting of tears filling my eyes. We hadn't even been into the court room yet so I knew I had to keep it together. I walked to the bathroom and gained my composure. I sat back down with mom and I looked at her. She was just as shook as I was. I didn't know what to say or even what to think. Almost like a wave coming over me, God spoke to my heart. "You have to remember that HER being yours is JUST as important as him being yours." The privilege and responsibility of being both of their parent has to hold equal importance in my heart. That's not always been the easiest. God wanted me to hear that message loud and clear today and boy have I!

We started with sisters case and I'm not lying when I say it lasted less than 5 minutes. The judge asked the DA to speak. He spoke that publication had been complete and asked for termination of parental rights. The judge allowed both parent's attorneys to speak (neither parent was actually present),but didn't seem to care much at all what they had to say. He told them both that their clients had had plenty of notification and still weren't present. He quickly terminated rights.  The judge thanked me...yea..never had that happened before. He said "thank you on behalf of the state, and me personally for what you do. I could never do it but I'm so appreciative of you stepping up for these kids." Whoooow...that's it? It's done. We seriously start talking adoption from here forward.

On to brothers case...I am so thankful that the "error bomb" wasn't dropped on me right there in the court room. It may not have been pretty. God knew what I needed and provided that small window for me to prepare. With the error, nothing of substance could happen today. We have a new court date and a CORRECT publication going out soon. It was hard to walk out of there without the outcome I had so desperately hoped and prayed for, but I will hold onto the judges last words "We will be back August 22nd for termination." 

The drive home from court was full of phone calls to family. We are all so excited that sister is going to be forever ours. No one is more excited than she! When I finally got to talk to her and told her the judges decision, she screamed and grabbed me so tight. We wept tears of joy, together, in one another's arms. She kept saying "I get to be with you FOREVER!" We went to lunch together and she looked across the table at me and smiled. She said "Mom, you're going to be there when I'm a teenager, and when I get married, and when I have a baby...ohhh I know you're gonna cry when you see my baby for the first time!" Yes, my sweet girl, I'm going to be there for all those things, I'm going to be there for YOU.

I am so grateful to God that He trusted me . I am so grateful that he is constantly teaching me how to better trust HIM! I have all the faith that in the not so distant future, these babies will be officially mine, and we can continue on writing the stories of each of our lives...together!

My Choir Girl

My heart broke wide open and love poured from my eyes.

When she came, she came with scars that told a story of the past, open wounds that needed immediate attention, and infection that needed to be slowly and carefully cleaned allowing new, healthy tissue to grow. It was work. It is work. It doesn't happen quickly. Assess. Reassess. Act. Repeat.

When I look at her, I see the little girl in me. I see the teenager, the young adult, the mother and friend. I know the struggle to feel enough in a world that tells you that you aren't. I know how hard it is to trust again when you've been betrayed. I see how beautiful she is and yet I hear her reject compliments. In the places I don't see me, I search for ways to connect with her. I watch her struggling to build friendships because when she has, she always had to leave them, never learning of lasting relationships.

When I watched her take that stage tonight, it all melted away. She was so small, and yet she was so BIG. I could, in those moments, see no more scars or wounds. I could see her future. I could see her healed. I could see the many steps that she has and will take to recover from an unjust start. I could see that the wounds I usually see were actually the very things that had made her strong...BIG. Tears streamed down my cheeks. After the performance, I met her in the hall. She ran and jumped into my arms. I wept. She wiped my tears and began to cry too. I told her that I didn't believe I had ever felt so proud in all of my life. I think we both understood the significance of that moment. We walked toward the car, in the rain, hand in hand. I felt more alive.

Sister, we are in this together. We are learning and growing. We are doing the hard work. I won't stop fighting until you are forever mine. Be brave. Be bold. Sing in the shower. Laugh. Cry. Build friendships. Baby girl, continue to seek the thing, the place that temporarily allows everything to melt away. The place that allows you to leave the baggage at the door. The thing that let's you be unapologetically you. If it is center stage, then take center stage every opportunity you get. If it is in a quiet corner, flipping through the pages of a novel, then visit every bookstore on this side of the sun.

Nap Time 😴😫🥛😴👊🙏😴

I dearly love a good nap on a Saturday afternoon. When Baby was little, we snoozed for a good couple hours every Saturday. Naps haven't ended but it takes a SERIOUS amount of effort lately to get him down. Like I mean I REALLY need a nap after I get him to sleep. Bedtime is great. He lays down and goes to sleep. Nap...not so much. It takes tears, prayers, an act of Congress, negotiations, milk, more milk, and a level of exhaustion that can't be denied to reach nap the past few weekends. He has become an avid fighter of home naps and my heart is breaking! Ha!

Me: Pretending to be asleep 😴
Him: Pats my face softly "Momma, momma...luh youuu!"
Me: Tries to be strong...can't. "Momma loves you too. Close your eyes and take a nap."
Him: Makes car sounds, blows spit bubbles, kicks legs, changes positions 10 times, says every word he knows X2, makes animal sounds after each animal named, pats my face..."momma...milk?"
Me: I am strong...😴
Him: "Momma...luh youuu. Momma, momma, mommmmmmmaaaa, milk?"
Me: "ok, I'll get you some milk but then you have to take a nap."
Him: drinks milk..."tank u momma"
Me:" You're welcome...now take a nap. Momma loves you."
Him: "Luh uuuuu momma" closes eyes!
Me: yes...he's going to sleep!
Him: "Dinosaur" (yes, he can say dinosaur incredibly well for a 2yr old) "dinosaur (X50)"
Me: Pretending to be asleep 😴
Him: flips around to stick his feet in my face "mell momma...eewwwe"
Me: Pretending to be asleep 😴
Him: flips back around to open my eyelids
Me: giggles...(very bad move btw!)
Him: giggles and stands up to jump and clap...oh it's party time now! Momma is awake and she's laughing!!
Me: "Do you wanna go to sleep by yourself, in your bed?"
Him: Lays down quickly
Me: Pretending to be asleep 😴
Him: repeats every known word X3, 500 position changes, pats to my face feel less full of love 😂, "Momma...1 more milk...peeeeze!"
Me: "Fine...1 more drink of milk, but then it's seriously time to take a nap"
Him: drinks milk...closes eyes...FINALLY falls asleep!
Me: "Thank you Jesus!" Moves him to his bed. 😴😴😴
Still Me: Folds a load of laundry, washed a few dishes, pick up some toys, respond to a couple texts, grab a super quick shower, check Facebook (another big mistake btw!)..ahh now on to a nap...
Him: "Mommmaaa!"

Before you say I'm soft...I know I am! I know that I should put him in his crib for a nap and let him "cry it out". But I'm soft. Super soft. Plus, during the "cry it out" at bedtime phase, my neighbor actually messaged to make sure everything was ok! His cry sounds like he's being tortured. I happen to love the 20 times he tells me "luh u momma" while he desperately tries to avoid sleep. I miss rocking him to sleep at night and for naps already. I know these naps will eventually disappear completely and I'll miss the sweet and funny moments. So I will fight for them as long as I can. By 3 years old, it may take 25 cups of milk, and I may be getting punched in the face, but as long as he still says "luh u" and I still get rewarded with a Saturday nap or the idea of one, then the fight will go on.

Cereal and Silly Girls

I sat with sister at the table tonight eating cereal. It was way past bedtime, but we needed a snack and more importantly we needed this time. Life has been heavy for us both. So many ups and downs in the past few months. We talked about some important stuff and then ended up giggling like two little school girls. I kept saying shhhhh so we wouldn't wake up brother, but we just kept giggling. My heart swells in these moments. I can't believe I'm the one that is lucky enough to share this time with her.

We talked about Christmas. She told me that what she's most thankful for is that she will get to spend it with her brother. We already have a tree up and a few presents wrapped and what's this 9 year old most thankful for?...she will be with her brother....for the 1st time. She said she knows that Lollie and I will spoil her and so all she wants from Santa is a bike. Spoil is an understatement. I've already gone way overboard and it's not even December yet.

As happy as I was in that moment, I am scared to death. Brother's future has a whole bunch of question marks beside it right now. I can't even imagine us without him or him without us, but I know it's a possibility. It's heavy. So heavy. When I consider this, I literally have to remind myself to breathe. She knows the possibilities and we've shared several tears and lots of hugs. He recently spent a few days away from us, and we were quite lost without him.

Right now, I will have faith that God has it all worked out, remind myself to breathe, support this little girl whom is dealing with far more than most adults could handle, snuggle my baby boy every chance I get, and probably continue to do a ridiculous amount of Christmas shopping. I will not take a single moment for granted, and I will count my blessings every night as I go to sleep.

Join me in praying that these two get to share this Christmas and many many more together. Pray for the joy of Christmas to fill our home and our hearts. Pray that in the weeks ahead God will give us all the strength to face the mountains. Pray for a little girl who has found hope in the new but most definitely will feel the heartache of what's been lost.

Brave

So I recently was recognized as TFI's Oklahoma caregiver of the month. TFI is the foster agency I used to begin foster care. They visit monthly, check in on any needs we may have, and most importantly keep my butt organized. There's a lot of paperwork and training that goes into this.  It's weird because from a very young age, I loved attention. I loved to be up on the stage singing and dancing. Loved to be recognized at assemblies for sports and honor roll. I got super stoked when my picture made it in the local paper. My cousins and I entertained our family with made up dances and skits. The older I get, the less I enjoy attention. I appreciate the sentiment, but the outpouring of friends and even strangers commenting on me...that's overwhelming.

Someone said I'm an angel. Far from it.  Words like amazing, deserving, and even selfless. Whew. The road that led me here was far from selfless. I did every thing in MY power to become a mother. It was the desire of my heart, and at one point I was determined to stop at nothing until I was able to become pregnant. I spent thousands and thousands of dollars, 4 surgeries, and years of my marriage being completely consumed with the hopes and desire to become a mommy. God kept closing doors and I kept trying to find another way in. It was exhausting. Looking back, it was the opposite of selfless.

God began to whisper the idea of fostering and again and again I said no. I worked VERY hard to discredit...disqualify myself before I even considered giving it a chance. Single parent...not good enough. Two bedroom in a mediocre neighborhood...not good enough. Teacher's income in Oklahoma... definitely not good enough. Apparently God didn't buy into my excuses, and I now know that HE qualified me long before I began to start feeling unqualified.

One day, sitting all alone on my couch, I decided to be BRAVE. I decided that even though this was the scariest thing I could imagine stepping into, that I'd just do it anyway. BRAVE was a decision that I made. It's the only word I'd use to describe me as a "foster parent", and truth is many days I feel so far from brave. There's hurt and unimaginable heartache. There's anger and confusion. There's self doubt and lots of tears. There's a ton of fear but somehow all of that directs me back the decision to continue to be BRAVE.

The rest is me being a mom just like you. It's loving my children unconditionally. It's fighting, along side them, the injustices of the world. It's accidentally letting a cuss word slip when I spill the milk. It's crying and sleepless nights from sickness and pure exhaustion. It's the same anger you feel when someone breaks your child's heart. It's feeding them chicken nuggets...AGAIN. It's teaching them kindness and compassion towards others. It's forgetting to check backpacks and sign papers. BUT MOSTLY it's forgiving myself over and over for not being perfect.

P.S. I don't consider myself nearly the blessing to them, that they are to me.

Miss Sassypants

She's making me a better version of me. I am all of the sudden super aware of what kind of woman I am in all aspects of my life. I guess having a little girl around watching and questioning your every move will do that to you. We did yoga tonight before bed...not because I particularly felt like it but more because she questioned why I had yoga mats if I didn't even use them. I didn't have a good answer and she wanted to do yoga and so we did. It was lovely. After that we each opened a book and read until our eyes were heavy. That was my idea and not because I always read before bed, but because I know I should...and I know she should...and I know if I do...she will. There's been a ton of these same scenarios in the past week. I can't really remember ever being so aware of how I care for myself. Teaching her has opened a window into me. Chasing little boys around for the past few years and crashing into bed at the end of each day has been a mountain of fun. I wouldn't trade it for the world, but raising a lady, well, that's something special for us both.

We've talked a lot this week about her interests and what she might want to get involved with. My heart is happy to announce that she decided she wants to be a ballerina. We bought her a leotard and tights today. I asked her to try it on once we got home so we could make sure it fit. It was adorable and I tried really hard not to squeel with excitement when she popped out in that black and pink looking all precious. I asked if I could take her picture and she rolled her eyes ...cause...uhh... that's just ridiculous that I would want a picture of that. She tried to pretend she wasn't excited. She was though. She wouldn't take it off. She wore them all evening.

She's smart and witty. She's a little bit shy when she meets new people and a little bit over the top once she warms up. She talks back a lot more than I like but speaks and listens with her heart when we talk about the serious things. She knows a lot about a lot and yet she's held on to some sweet innocence through it all.

She's trying hard to be a good big sister but it's so new. She's learning about her baby brother and is quick to tell other people about him as if she's known him all along. Her patience runs out quickly some days. "Why does he cry so much?" "Tell him to stop touching my things!" "Ugh, I can't wait til my room is finished cause he's NOT allowed in there." Most of the time though it's giggles between them, funny faces in the back seat as we make our way through town, chasing each other through the house and snuggles on the couch.

He's learning too. Sharing "your person" isn't easy when you've never had to. When I brush her hair, or she lays across my lap, he looks so betrayed and cries the saddest cry I've ever heard. Each day has seemed a little easier on him and it melts my heart to watch them learn about each other and begin forming the bond that belongs between siblings.

I've lost count of what chapter this is in my book of life, but I can tell you that I can't wait to turn the page each day. It's a beautiful story that's being written. A story of siblings brought together. A story of love and hope. ❤💙