One Last Trip

1,967 days ago, I drove into Hobart, OK with a chubby faced, bald headed, blue-eyed, 8 month old, Abram. We had known each other for a whole 15 hours on that first trip to Kiowa County. 

1,645 days ago, Savannah Ann walked up my driveway with red, box dyed hair, the sweetest gapped tooth smile, and a broken sandal. She instantly became my favorite 8 year old in the world and everything Abram and I didn't even know we needed. It would mean more days in court.... more trips to Kiowa County. 

1,175 ago, we became a forever family. I was so happy to be done with those trips to Hobart. BUT......

684 ago God said, "We're not done yet!" And here comes the blue-eyed, fiercely independent, loud, bossy, cuddling, beautiful baby of the family, and many more trips to Kiowa County. 

TODAY, I made my final drive to that court house. After many miles, money, and a million tears, I'm finally done. Next stop, Jackson County Courthouse! 

***ADOPTION DAY COMING SOON!!!***

Peace Out, Kiowa County! ✌️💜

Good News

It's been awhile... yeah. Raising 3 is no walk in the park. I told someone today I'm crazy for taking this on "alone" but when I look back, I know the only answer was yes. 

We got really good news today and we are one step closer to adoption for little sis. As I sit here and think about officially becoming a single mom of 3, I can't help but reflect on how far I've come. I remember making choices...many of them...many years ago...with the thought in mind that it really didn't matter because I wasn't going to have kids, my marriage had failed, and I figured I'd end up old and alone. It seems so dramatic looking back but seriously it's what I believed. 

When Abram came I was sort of like the Grinch...my heart grew three sizes that day. Little did I know that there were two precious girls waiting to fill the other two thirds. 

I couldn't honestly tell anyone that this was an easy path. It's been so hard. So exhausting. It's definitely aged me. But these 3... they are worth it all. I went to parent teacher conferences this week and listened to Abram's teacher talk about him being a leader and easily making friends (talking too much but of course that's no surprise!) He's smart and funny and basically thriving as a 6 yr old spoiled rotten, sensitive, soft hearted, bratty, Pokémon collecting little boy. 

Savannah's teachers talked about how smart she is and what a pleasure she is to have in class. We ended up spending most of our time talking to her archery coach and he went on and on about what and elite archer she is. I take very little credit for who she is. Sure I give her what she needs and love her like crazy. I give tough love when I need to but she came to me resilient and determined. I've watched her blossom into this young lady that's going to be a force in the world. Mark my words. 

Then there's Baby K! I went to pick her up from daycare this week and she attempted to climb the fence to get to me. By the time I made it to the gate, her boot was caught underneath and it took 3 of us to get her out. Bless her teacher's heart I could tell it had been a day and believe me I understand. She's recreating threenager on a whole new level. She loves me fiercely and doesn't wanna ever spend a night away from momma. It took Abram past age 4 to spend the night at Lollie and Pop's. I'll be lucky if she'll stay before Junior High. She's sassy and smart like her big sister and for sure plans to leave her mark on the world. 

Then there's me. Still teaching and loving my students every day as if they're my own... because in the hours they're with me they are! I don't see myself ever leaving education but I'm also opening my heart to some small changes that might be possible in the near future. I'm single and probably too stubborn to co-parent so it is what it is but if you think you have the perfect match and you're willing to keep my rowdy kids for the night, let me know! I'll accept a night out. Lol. 

I'm blessed and stressed and a really hot mess but I really love my kids and I really love me. 

As always, thanks to our balcony people who keep cheering us on. We love you big and we appreciate you.

🙏❤🩵💜

The Ugly Side

I will never forget the day my home was fully certified and ready to accept a foster child/children. I got the call a little before 9 that they had finished everything, I was fully approved, and my home would be put into the system as active. I was sitting on my porch drinking coffee and freaking out so much on the inside. It wasn't even 10 minutes later that my phone rang and up popped the DHS hotline number. I took a deep breath and answered. The lady on the other end began to tell me about a teenage girl that needed a home. My heart broke as I heard her story. She had a child of her own that was placed elsewhere in foster care, her boyfriend was in and out of jail, and she would often run away when he was released each time. I listened, but I knew that this young lady was not supposed to be placed in my home. As a single foster parent, I already knew some of my limitations and I knew this didn't feel right. I told the woman on the line that I couldn't accept the placement. I cried when I hung up because even though I knew this placement wasn't right for me, my heart had already been broken a little by foster care. I let that feeling of "not enough" creep back into my mind and wondered if everything I was doing was actually a big mistake. I still think about her from time to time. She would be an adult now and I wonder how she is. I wonder if she was able to be a  mother to her baby or if the cycle of foster care continues in her family. I never even knew her name. 

So much of what I've observed in my years of teaching and fostering is that it's so hard to break away from generational poverty, neglect, abuse, or drug addiction. It's an ugly truth you come face to face with. It's the ugly truth these children live through. 

I've learned a lot about how luck was on my side. I was lucky that even though we would have been considered poor, I had two present parents that worked really hard to make ends meet. I never knew what it meant to open a completely empty fridge. I never got slapped around by an abusive parent. And never once in my life did I face a situation where the only people in the world willing and able to care for me were complete strangers. 

My children come from trauma. 8yrs, 8months, 15months. All stories different. All stories I'll never know all the pieces to. So what can I do? Sure I can love them. That's not enough. I have to continue to work on me. I work on me so I am able to hold them. I continue to learn about the longterm effects of trauma and how it rears its ugly head in tantrums, control, withdrawal, demanding attention, fear....this list could really go on and on. I just want being "in the system" to stop piling trauma on top of trauma. 

I'm tired. I'm sad. It's hard. And the solution actually seems very simple to me. I want to take care of the people I love. I want the simplicity of knowing my kids are mine and that I won't wake up one day and that any piece of that has been taken from us. The whole process is exhausting. Addiction, incarceration, rehab, reunification, visitation, termination, court dates, attorneys, home visits...  Just when I thought everything was falling into place, that we were so very close to an end, I find myself again knowing there are too many players in this game. 

But here we are and I'm proud of us. I'm proud that we've become a family, one, two, three times now. I'm proud of the determination we've all shown to keep moving forward together. But I'm also tired...very tired. 

Battlefield

12 years ago I was recovering from a major surgery. I had staples across my lower abdomen and I was moving around at the speed of a snail. I also experienced severe insomnia for the first time in my life. Every bit of it was worth it at the time. I was finally filled with hope of getting pregnant. For months everything was calculated... ovulation tests, pregnancy tests, repeat. Month after month the hope slowly faded. I was living in a state of defeat. I was drained, and my marriage was falling apart right before my eyes. 

  The next few years were hard, to say the least. I was faced with a decision to accept the way my life had turned out or create one that brought me back to a state of joy. I made decisions during those years that pulled me back and forth. I was withdrawn at times, while at others, I was partying like it was 1999. Neither brought me joy. I was in a battle with myself. Somewhere along that winding road I started to set boundaries. I needed my circle to be small and trustworthy. I learned I didn't need a partner to be happy, and that in fact, this poor school teacher could build a pretty good life all by herself. 

  The last couple years haven't been without their battles. I watched my dad battle cancer. I've watched loved ones struggle through addiction. I've watched my daughter battle through and overcome trauma from her past. I watched all of us make our way through a pandemic. 

  Looking back, I see how necessary each of those battles were to bring me to exactly where I am now. I am in a place to support my children in finding their true joy in life. What a beautiful responsibility.

  I sit here this morning reflecting in a quiet house. The kids are at daycare, as I will walk into my attorney's office later today and again prepare for battle. I am stronger than I've ever been but not without some level of worry. Check signed, mediation date set, and the looming presence of a possible trial in the future. All of these things combined have the power to take my breath away. The possibility of us ever saying goodbye to our littlest one puts a knot in my stomach the size of the Atlantic. It's all hard and scary and I'd be lying if I didn't say so. 

  What I've learned is not to try and eat the whole elephant at once. I constantly remind myself that I have today, and after the tragedies of this week, that's more than many parents are waking up to. Today we press on. Today I once again prepare to pull out and put on my armor even though it didn't even have time to get dusty yet. I will fight for you baby, just like I fought for your brother and sister. I will do everything in my power to give you every chance in life to find and hold tight to your joy. 

Where's MY dad?

I knew eventually he'd get to the age where he wanted to know about his dad. It was bedtime and we were having a silly lighthearted conversation about a little girl in his class that he always says is so pretty! He said "maybe when I'm big I will marry her!" Then we giggled and he stopped and said "noooo...you know who I'm gonna marry?" I said no. He said "You, momma!" I told him I can't marry him cause I'm his mommy and people can't marry their mommy. He said "can they marry their dad?" I said no. He then said "my dad is in heaven". Those words were like a dagger to my momma heart. We've talked about his dad but in that moment I realized he just didn't at all understand. I told him his dad is not in heaven but he does live far far away. I explained the best I could to a 5 year old that when he was a baby, his dad wasn't healthy and he couldn't take care of him and so he came to be my little boy forever. He asked me if Pop can be his dad. I told him no because Pop loves being your Pop so much. We talked for awhile about families and how each one is different. He said "I love you mom and you're my momma!" The whole conversation was simple and straightforward to him. It left me feeling quite gloomy. You see, I've never met or even spoken to his dad. There's not one single thing I can tell him about his dad. No funny stories. No faces that he makes can I ever say "you look just like your dad". I've got nothing and it's just sad. He has a brother in California. They've spent some time together when he went to visit his grandparents. They look a lot alike. I wish they could have a closer relationship and hope someday they do. I know there will be more questions along the way. I pray I have the words. 

Sav has recently began writing her dad. It has oddly enough brought with it a true acceptance of her life without him in it. They were so close and to lose that connection overnight is something I can't even fathom. When she speaks about him, I get a sense it was them against the world. As long as they had each other they'd be alright.  After they had written each other a couple times, she told me that she "just wants her family to know that she's okay and that she's really happy". She went on to tell me that was one of the hardest things was worrying that her family didn't know she was okay. Three years she's held on to those thoughts. 

I'm not even sure the point of this blog...maybe it's just to try and tie up the wondering thoughts in my mind for the past months. Maybe it's to let other foster/adoptive parents know that it's really hard for me too...you're not alone. Maybe it's just about facing the facts. I know what it's not. It's not at all about wondering if I'm enough. I know I can't be a dad. But I do know I can surround my children with strong male role models. Our village is full of them. I know they have a Pop, an Uncle, and so many others that fill in the gaps. I will continue to try and help my children heal from the life that didn't work out for them, embrace the one they have, and love them every step of the way. 

Saying Yes to a Dozen

It's been awhile but honestly it's because my plate is so so full. People keep saying "two is two but three's a dozen". I feel that! The past 4 1/2 months have been full of adjustment but little by little we are making it happen. 

I've had lots of people ask me if I'd adopt her. I've one answer to that question since I started fostering. My agreement with God was "for as long as you need me".  Nothing about that has changed. The answer has a few more layers now because it's no longer just about me. Savannah, Abram and I had settled into life as a little family of 3. My home was closed to foster care and the consideration to ever foster again seemed like it would only be a possibility way down the road....then I got the call. As a family of three we said together "for as long as you need us". 

Saying yes means saying yes to the hard. The visitations, bridging with biological families under undesirable circumstances, court dates, homes visits, doctor visits paperwork and more paperwork, having my own life picked apart under a microscope. Saying yes also means saying yes to an immeasurable amount of blessings. Yes to more love. Yes to snuggles on Saturday mornings in pjs . Yes to taking care of boo-boos and hearing the word Ma, Momma, and sometimes bruh followed by I love you or Luhhhh Yoouuuu. Yes to being able to provide an opportunity for siblings to break cycles of generational povery and addiction. Yes to looking at each of their same big ears and giggling to myself every time. Yes to stability and commitment to make it through this life together. 

Since I haven't written in so long here's a little update on where we're at...

Savannah Ann...The Big Sis. She's 110% preteen. She mastered the blank stare months back that says "you're an idiot" "I'm cussing you out in my head", or "would you please just stop talking!". She's rockin the holy jeans and of course a hoodie in 110° weather. She's making close friends which hasn't always been easy. I think attachment is a scary thing. She's such a great helper around the house and does anything I ask to keep the house tidy. She is a bit unorganized (that'd be putting it nicely!) and that would probably be where she and I butt heads the most. I find out about everything pertaining to her needs or obligations last minute. When she struggles most, she withdrawals from me first. I don't let her. I will chase her to moon a million times to let her know I'm not going anywhere. Like it or not she's stuck with me FOREVER. She is still super passionate about archery and we love watching her in action. She's a smart cookie and when she keeps up with her homework (refer back to organizational skills) she is a kick ass student. We have lots of talks about kindness and about the kids that need it most. She works hard to seek those opportunities to just be kind. I said from the beginning she makes me a better me. I strive to be the example of a strong, kind, compassionate woman that I see her growing up to be. ❤

Abram...AKA King Abram. He thinks he's pretty much the boss of all things. He's more stubborn than anyone I know. Poor kiddo is the only male in a house full of girls! As my 3rd graders would say, he's girl trapped! Even the dogs are girls. He rolls with it. He has his little man cave where no girls are allowed without permission. You can usually bribe your way in with candy. It's been really hard on him to adjust to having baby sister in the house, but I'm watching his love grow for her. More chasing and laughing, tickling and wrestling. More moments where he asks her to sit by him and look at a book or watch his tablet with him. These moments didn't happen over night. There have been growing pains. He's started PreK this year and he loves school, his teachers and especially riding the bus. He's his normal ornery self and made it home with a couple "red faces" this month. Listening isn't his strong suit. He's an entertainer by heart. He could probably start his own podcast at age 4. He's a momma's boy and I honestly wouldn't want it any other way. We work hard though on being kind and respectful and talk lots about listening ears! He's so hilarious(without even knowing it) that even on my worst days I belly laugh at his stories. 💙

Little Sis...Our Gummy Bear. Whew, yall. I wasn't prepared. She's full speed ahead from the time she rises until the time she sleeps. She is quick and she is determined. If she wants something she will find a way. She can climb anything...I mean anything. She falls and gets right back up. She loves her family. She follows Sav around and watches her fixing her hair or cleaning around the house. She seizes every opportunity she can to dig in Savannah's box of fidgits even though she knows Savannah will get mad. She actually likes that part too as she smiles and giggles when anyone in the house chases her to get things she's not supposed to have. She thinks everything Abram does is funny and when he plays with her it makes her happiest. I have a feeling they will grow to be very close. She's an observer and wants to mimic any adult behaviors she sees. She wants to help wash dishes, fold laundry and help Pop pull weeds. Like the other two, she's a dog lover. She calls me Ma. 💜

As for me, I go to bed exhausted every. single. day. BUT my heart is so full. Self care has become more of a struggle and I know I must take care of me. I miss my monthly massge sessions and little things like having regularly shaved legs! I'm living on lots of coffee and lots of love right now. As we continue to find our groove, it'll all fall back into place. I am grateful for the hard as I've learned so much about GRACE. It has become the driving force for how I live my life...both giving it to myself and extending it to others. 💛

Thank you to all that love me and my children. Thank you for prayers, good vibes, amd well wishes. Sending my love right back to you! 

Sugar Plum

She's sugar and spice and everything nice...

She also has a temper and a scream bigger than seems necessary for that little body of hers. I'm learning more about her every day and love figuring out the things that make her giggle and smile. 

 I really thought in December of 2019 that our little family was complete. I was more than okay with that then. As 2020 passed by, we settled into just being a family. We enjoyed the long spring and summer and the extra time it leant us to just be. We grew in so many ways. In a million ways it was perfect, but somewhere in the midst of the long quarantine, my heart began to stir. Although I didn't miss the paperwork, the home visits, or the court dates, I missed foster care. Maybe it was that, or maybe it was a precious baby girl that I knew was maybe supposed to be a part of our family. I tried to push the thought aside but she was always there in the back of my mind. She already had a piece of my heart. 

On Friday, my mom and I were getting ready for a garage sale when I got the call. I thought to myself, as I listened to them talk, that my response should be "let me think it over". I defaulted to yes instead. I stood there in the middle of my garage sale items and scanned for all things baby. I grabbed the car seat and pack n play, tucked the stroller into the back of the garage and walked back into my house shaking my head. Was I really going to do this again? For her, yes. 

The first night I woke up at around 4am and had a good cry because I realized I had forgotten to feed my kids that evening. My friends assured me if they had been that hungry then they would have spoken up. We were so consumed with taking in this precious little whirlwind that had come through our door. Two days later I almost did it again. That night me and Abram had a lovely dinner date in the kitchen after baby went down for the night. I guess in these moments you realize how unimportant it is to get things perfect all the time. The imperfect has a way of becoming so perfect. The night before all of our first day back to daycare,  school, and work, I had gotten things super organized and was so happy when everyone was in the car, happy, and on time. I think I probably even had a little smirk on my face like "look at me killin it"! We started backing out of the driveway when Abram stands up out of his car seat and says "Mom you forgot to buckle me!" 

The first days are always hard...like really really hard. All you really want is time to bond and get into a groove that works with this newly changed dynamic. Life and foster care don't really work that way though. You sign the million papers, respond to the million texts, and try to talk to all the people that help all the things align.  We've been running around like crazy the past few days but with the help of our amazing family, we're getting through these hard first days. My Sav is so amazing with baby girl. I swear she just blows me away time and time again with her ability to adapt and roll with the changes. Abram is having some pretty big growing pains not being the baby anymore. Let's just be real, I've babied that boy a lot. I wouldn't change it at all though. He's my baby boy forever. He's spending, by choice, a lot of extra time in his little man cave. Who can blame him? He's the only boy in a house where even the dogs are girls! I have no doubt he will adjust and thrive with the changes in due time. 

We're making it work...we might not be 100% killin it, but we're definitely working together and making it work.  Sometimes being a family means making sacrifices on things we want to make sure everyone gets what they need. I am beyond proud of my kids for their willingness. 

We thank you all for the many many gifts that have made this transition so much easier. We ask for your prayers and especially as we travel the road of foster care again. It's not always smooth but we will press on. 💙❤💜